Impending Duties
by Larael
Summary: Despite Spock's decision to stay with Starfleet future obligations to Vulcan prevent Uhura and him from being together. Basically my version of what happens after the movie with some room for your own imagination to take over. Rated T for language.
1. Prologue

**Authoress' Note: **Since interest was generated I feel it is my duty to take a stab at writing this fic. I have not had any experience writing any more than oneshots when it comes to ST fics, so this will either be an epic win or an epic fail. You have been warned. *crosses fingers*

**Prologue**

Spock feels, as he walks briskly down the corridor and away from the adoring crowd surrounding the newly appointed Captain James T. Kirk, that something is not right. The icy hand of uncertainty and death that had gripped the hearts of every cadet and officer during the Narada's attack, even his, seems to have replaced the logic of Starfleet entirely with a sense of urgency. Never before has a cadet been promoted to captain so quickly.

That is not to say that Spock does not feel some sort of pride at serving under Jim Kirk, nor does he envy the position he has been given. He merely believes that things shouldn't have "jumped the gun" in this way, as his mother would have said. Too many people have sacrificed their lives for the continuance of a way of life that could be thrown away in an instant on account of rash decisions.

Spock refuses to let this happen. He will not lecture his captain, nor will he challenge him outright. No, he will allow him to hone his skills and perfect that which the young Vulcan knows him to be capable of: certainty and calm resolution in the face of the unpredictable and the unrelenting so as to save and better as many lives as possible.

He rounds the corner only to find himself face-to-face with Uhura. She gasps and steps back, taken completely unawares by his sudden appearance.

"Spock," she says, her hand over her heart, "I was just coming to see you."

Her voice is breathy and not for the first time Spock finds himself swimming in those impossibly deep brown eyes. He shakes his head, raising an eyebrow.

"I am on my way to the Vulcan Council to discuss the matter of continuing my post with Starfleet."

She nods and looks down for a moment before meeting my gaze. "So, it's true then?" she asks, "They're asking you to go to colony with them."

"Asking but not forcing me, Lieutenant," he says quietly, "That makes all the difference."

She smiles and Spock allows her to embrace him for a few seconds. As her heart beats against his he vows to teach her the traditional Vulcan display of affection, as soon as he can, as his father taught his mother when he was an ambassador on Earth. The two separate, and she squeezes his hand in hers.

"Good luck."

Spock nods and continues down the corridor without a backward glance, leaving Uhura leaning against the wall, wringing her hands in a despair that he does not even recognise.

Upon entering the Vulcan Embassy, Spock finds that the High Council is already in session. He enters the room with as little disturbance as possible though T'Pau, who has been leading the discussion thus far, ceases speaking as soon as he arrives.

"Spock, we have been waiting," she says, her voice booming for a woman of such small stature.

He bows his head. "I would not detain us further with excuses, T'Pau."

The elder Vulcan nods approvingly, and continues speaking, this time addressing the young Vulcan before her.

"The Council, with the help of Starfleet emissaries, has decided upon a planet for the new Vulcan colony. As such, all off-world Vulcan's have been asked to join those surviving colonists in rebuilding our home and our culture there. Our numbers are small. Therefore, we have issued a state of emergency. Repopulation procedures will commence as soon as rebuilding is complete."

T'Pau lifts an eyebrow delicately as if to say that it is the appropriate time for the young Vulcan to ask questions. Spock clears his throat once.

"How long is rebuilding expected to take?" he asks, knowing this to be the deciding factor in how long he should remain in Starfleet, if he should remain at all.

"Approximately three to five Earth years without factors such as weather, availability of materials, and the number of workers considered. Our surviving architects are hard at work already."

Spock nods, training his face not to betray his pleasure at the fact that he will be able to remain with Starfleet longer than he had expected, or more importantly, that he will be able to remain with Uhura . . .

"There is a matter of greater importance we wished to discuss with you, Spock," T'Pau continues. The other Council members stare down at him with what could pass for uneasiness upon their faces. Even his father, who had undergone the kolinahr in his youth, betrays a grim hint of disquiet as well.

"The issue of repopulation is our foremost concern. With the absence of a generation of children our entire culture and all of Surak's teachings may be lost. Such is our haste that any child, even one that is three fourths Vulcan, would be a valuable asset to our society."

Spock jerks his head up, meeting T'Pau's unblinking gaze. Perhaps she is waiting for him to speak. He has never been sure with her. For a moment Spock is utterly conflicted. They may still grant him permission to remain with Starfleet, but what the future holds is another story altogether. His mind locks onto the feeling of Uhura's hand slipping from his grasp back in the corridor. That is how it feels to him now. He is losing her just as he lost his mother, in an instant.

"You said that the rebuilding of the colony will take three to five years, therefore, is it not safe for me to assume that I may continue with my present post at Starfleet until I am needed?"

T'Pau looks away from him and meets the eyes of Sarek, his father, whose hands are clasped in front of him. Spock turns his eyes to him as he begins to speak in an even tone.

"If Starfleet is the present course that you wish to pursue, then we would have no hand in forcing you to do otherwise. We only ask that when the time comes, you will heed the call of your father's land and take up the responsibility of your people."

Spock bows his head, trying to hide the internal conflict that could surely be seen in his eyes. Starfleet, his main concern before, no longer seems important in the face of these new decisions. He must choose between the world he has always known, the world his mother sacrificed her entire life for, and the woman he knows that he loves.

For the first time in his life, Spock does not know what to do. Logic has failed him, and all that he has left is the raw emotions of grief and longing and despair buried deep within him wanting desperately to burst free. He takes a deep breath then, steeling himself as his two halves war inside his heart and mind. He can feel their eyes on him, waiting. He looks up at his father.

"I will do what I must."

There will be no turning back now. Spock leaves the Vulcan Council hall heavier of heart than when he went in. He is about to hurt someone more than he has ever hurt anyone in his life, and the very idea of it rips his heart in two.

**Authoress' Note:** So that's that. If you're an Uhura/Spock shipper I suggest you get out now. Otherwise, please review if you've got a moment to spare! I eat reviews for breakfast along with my angst-ridden cereal.


	2. A Bittersweet Ending

**Authoress' Note: **This is my first ST09 fic, but not my first ST: TOS fic. I am well acquainted with the Star Trek universe, and suffice it to say, I loved the new movie! Everything about it was fresh and wonderfully done, although I admit I have not jumped on the Uhura/Spock 'ship' just yet. They do make for an angsty couple [and if you know me, you know I eat angst for breakfast], but I just can't imagine them doing the whole marriage and babies thing. Uhura is just too strong of a woman and well, Spock… he's got to ditch the women so he can become ridiculously loyal to Kirk. That's how that works in my mind at least. I hope no one will be offended by what I've done here. Who knows what canon and fanon are nowadays anyway, right? At any rate, I hope you enjoy. :D © Paramount, Gene Roddenberry, etc. I own nothing.

**Impending Duties**

She is exactly 4.32 minutes late, and in the lapsing time spent waiting for her arrival Spock begins to feel something he has never experienced before. There is a fluttering in the pit of his stomach, which slowly solidifies into an aching mass. The word for this particular emotion and its consequential physical attributes escapes him, though he specifically remembers his mother mentioning it several times during his childhood. A harsh beep takes him out of his reverie, and he suddenly remembers the word: anxiety.

"Enter," he calls, standing up slowly as he pulls the hem of his uniform down out of habit, and then clasps his hands behind his back.

The door swooshes open, and Uhura strides in, her silken brown hair swinging to and fro. There is a radiant smile upon her face, and it pains Spock to do what he knows must be done.

"Spock?" her voice is mildly curious as she takes a step toward him one hand outstretched. He suddenly realises how much silence has stretched between them in the few moments he has been standing before her. Her delicate eyebrows have furrowed together and are slanted slightly, much like his own.

"Uhura," he says with a nod and takes a step back. He cannot risk being so close to her at such a moment as this when he knows he must keep a clear head for the sake of the both of them. Her lips tip downward slightly at his movement as she crosses her arms across her chest.

"You've made a decision then, haven't you?" she says bitterly. Spock does not nod. There is no need to acknowledge what she already knows to be true. He should have known that this woman, so skilled in xenolinguistics, would have no trouble seeing through his façade of calm. Perhaps she had foreseen the choice he would need to make from the moment Vulcan was destroyed.

"I am staying with Starfleet for the present," Spock says, choosing his words carefully as he watches Uhura's hand curl into a fist at her side, "though I want you to know that I have certain obligations to Vulcan and my people that, at some point in the future, will need to be fulfilled."

She blinks at him with those large brown eyes, and he finds that he cannot discern the emotion hiding beneath them. She may cry or yell or resort to physical violence within the space of a second. He banishes that last thought. The beautiful young woman before him would never do such a thing. He can already see the fraying ends of her emotion being wound up again from the inside out. Uhura will not give herself away so easily.

"You do understand, don't you?" he asks.

"No, I do not." Her voice is icy and stings more than a slap to the cheek.

Spock clears his throat, "I must do my part in helping to repopulate Vulcan. I certainly cannot. . . That is to say. . . There will be another woman. A Vulcan woman."

Uhura's eyes flash, and now there is no mistaking her anger. "What about us? What about me?" she cries shrilly, and then her voice lowers to a whisper as her lip trembles, "Doesn't my love mean anything to you?"

Spock's attempt at keeping a rock hard demeanour cracks, and he allows her into his arms where she rests her head against his shoulder. He feels at ease with her against him as though she were the missing piece in his puzzle. This will be hard for both of them.

"You know that I. . ." he cannot bring himself to say the worlds she wants to hear so badly, "hold great affection for you, but . . ."

She looks up at him, tears swimming in her eyes. "But, gentle embraces and stolen kisses aren't exactly the equivalent of a Vulcan marriage?"

Spock nods his head, and Uhura steps back. Already she begins breaking like a perfect porcelain figure before his eyes as she caves into herself. Her gaze shifts away from him as tears begin to fall from downcast eyes. He longs to comfort her, but doing so feels like a boundary he cannot seem to cross now.

Uhura understands why he is doing this to her now, before their relationship could have gone any farther. She doesn't blame him for doing it, though the pain she feels is overwhelming, like a stab to the heart. She wonders if he will ever feel the same as she does now.

"So, that's it then?" she asks, meeting his gaze, "I'm just supposed to move on, right?"

Spock doesn't know what to say as she sighs in exasperation and wipes at the tears under her eyes. He steps forward then and with his thumb wipes a stray one away. Uhura catches his hand in hers, and he pulls it to his lips, pressing them against her ebony skin.

"There will be other men, Nyota, far more worthy of you than I," he reassures her, though she shakes her head and pulls her hand from his gentle grasp. Composing herself, she steps toward the door, but turns back to him at the last second.

"You know I'll always be here if you need me," she says, her voice wavering and her head held high.

"Thank you, Nyota."

She leaves him standing there, hands still clasped behind him in his usual stance.

---

Later, in the darkness of her cabin Uhura allows herself to dwell on the events of the past day. She searches in her memory from some hint, or some sign Spock could have shown, of the tenderness she had once experienced with him before. Those were rare moments, but she had seen them in odd places, and now she knew they would exist only in her memory.

He had hardened considerably since the destruction of his world and the death of his mother. She should have noticed it earlier; the isolation and the tentative embraces. She should have known it was not meant to last. Her mother's words came back to her now from across a decade of time. "Don't give your heart away so readily, Nyota," she said, "You may not get it back in one piece."

Oh, did she know that now. Never had she fallen so hard for someone so unlikely to ever really love her the way she had hoped to be loved. Perhaps in that way Spock had been right. In some odd way he had shown his love for her by making the conscience decision not to be with her. He was protecting her from the worse heartbreak she would have felt if they had continued on for months or years. She was grateful to him in that respect, and wished she had shown that gratefulness at the time of their meeting.

Uhura curled up into a tight ball under the covers, staring out the window to the stars whizzing by outside. Never had she felt more alone. Kirk had his ship, McCoy had Kirk, and Spock would have someone else in time. Uhura only hoped that he would find love in that someone, as she had found it in him.


	3. The Aftermath

**Authoress' Note:** This is mostly a filler chapter, but I felt like it would best reflect how our two main characters are feeling at this point. Not so angsty this time, but still not very happy either. Please review after you're done reading! I need some feedback on my characterisation of Kirk. I've always had trouble with him.

**The Aftermath**

The voyage to Vulcan is going to be one of the longest Spock has experienced in his life he concludes as, for the 12th time, he steps out of the turbolift after having had to endure another prying conversation with a fellow crewmember as to the state of his relationship with Uhura. He finds that the use of meditation is slowly losing its touch, and if he has to answer another question with a raised eyebrow and his usual "That information is between myself and the Lieutenant" he shall surely strangle someone.

Everyone knows what's happened though. The average crewmember on the _Enterprise_ is not in any way daft. Most have figured out by the way Spock and Uhura skirt around each other without even a glance that something has happened, but what it is, they have yet to guess. Spock remains tight lipped, and if he were to name the emotion he feels boiling deep inside him he would have to say it is utter embarrassment at having the relationship with the woman he loves thrust out in the open for everyone to see.

Uhura seems to have it much worse. People do not seem to be so afraid to confront her as they are of confronting Spock. More than once he sees her in tears after exiting the rec room or the turbolift. Discreetly he follows her down the corridor until he can hear the whooshing of her cabin door as it closes. He stands outside of the door wondering if it would be appropriate to knock and offer forth some kind of comfort. The action feels hypocritical however, and he continues toward the bridge as usual, the heaviness continuing to grow in his heart.

Jim comes to see him one night when there is finally enough peace around him and in his mind for him to meditate. James T. Kirk is a man on a mission, even when he's off the bridge. Right now his friend is cooped up in his cabin meditating, and this does not sit well with him at all, especially when there's a woman he holds very dear, no matter the fact that she doesn't reciprocate, crying her eyes out in her cabin down the hall.

Kirk steps into Spock's cabin without a second thought about tact or privacy and clears his throat. Startled from his meditative trance, Spock looks up with a look that could pass for surprise on his face. He stands up quickly, pulling down the hem of his standard issue nightwear. Jim grins apologetically, and motions for Spock to sit down again.

"You must forgive me for intruding," he says, "but something is up around here, and I would like to know what the hell it is."

Spock shakes his head in a most human-like gesture, "I do not understand your meaning, Captain."

"It's Jim, Spock, Jim," sighs the young Captain, "How many times do I have to remind you of that?"

"Forgive me, but I do not believe you came to lecture me about the proper way in which I may address you . . . Jim."

Kirk consciously stops himself from giving an exasperated sigh. "No, you're right. I want to know what's going on with you and Uhura. I'm the Captain and considering one of my best communications officers has been crying all day I figured it had something to do with you. What did you say?"

There is a slight growl at the edge of his voice that could border on being protective. Spock looks down at his clasped hands, unsure of what _to_ say. Should he refuse his superior officer the information he seeks only on the basis that it is of a personal nature? He closes his eyes. Jim Kirk has not come to his cabin tonight as the captain, but rather as a concerned friend, and that is an entirely different matter.

"I ended my relationship with Ny- Uhura," Spock states calmly and evenly.

"You what?"

"I ended my relationship with the Lieutenant on the grounds of future issues that may arise concerning the repopulation of my planet."

Jim Kirk doesn't quite know what to say now. He thought the problem was something petty, like Spock had refused to make their relationship public (Hell, it already was!) or he had been hesitant for Uhura to meet his father. Anything but completely dumping her.

"You said you had to?" Jim asks, making sure he has heard right. He knows that his Science Officer would not do anything, especially something that would inflict so much pain, so lightly.

"Unfortunately, yes."

The young Vulcan does not go into details, and Kirk doesn't ask him to. That's something he's come to understand with Spock. There's no point pushing the rock when you know it won't budge.

"But, you're still staying with us, right?"

"Yes, Jim, for the time being."

Kirk nods, and pats his friend awkwardly on the shoulder. Spock takes the light blow without a word as he stares off into the space in front of him. Jim tries to lighten the mood a little.

"Don't worry about it, Spock," he says, as he makes his way toward the door, "I've left many a woman, and they all come around in the end. There's always someone better waiting for them anyway."

His words, meant as humorous, come out slightly cold, though Spock understands his meaning and is grateful for it.

"I certainly hope you are right, Captain."

He doesn't know how he expects to survive for long on this ship with Uhura only a few feet away from him on a daily basis. The temptation to fall back into old habits will always be there pressing down like a weight upon the both of them.

He doesn't want to lead her on, not after he has caused her so much heartache. For a few moments as he sits alone in his cabin he wishes that he could be human enough to understand the pain she is going through. He wants to feel the piercing rejection and the drowning grief that come along with the end of a relationship. But, most importantly, he does not want Nyota to feel so alone in her struggle.


	4. Anxious Musings

**Authoress' Note:** Just a quick filler chapter for everyone. I've got a few chapters ahead of this planned out that should be good, but otherwise, we're sort of just drifting with where ever this thing wants to go. :P Don't forget to review when you're finished reading! I like getting feedback on characterisation of characters like Kirk and Spock. I find them to be the most difficult to portray, especially at this time in their lives.

**Anxious Musings**

The late shift begins, and as Spock enters his cabin he finds himself resisting the urge to fall straight into bed and sleep for an eternity. Vulcan's do not need sleep after all, and his sudden tiredness, he assures himself, must stem from lack of meditation or the rigors of work. He forces himself to think of anything but succumbing to the human side of himself, because he knows that if he allows himself to dwell on humanity he will be forced to remember his mother. The grief would still be too much for him to bear . . .

Instead, he sits down on his bed and pulls off his boots. Sitting ramrod straight, he stares out the window at the bright stars whizzing by. He can't seem to get enough of watching them and wondering if any could serve for the home of his people as well as Vulcan once did. He trusts that his older counterpart has done a precise job in finding a new planet for their home, but he wonders, at the same time, if it will feel the same.

The notion is a ridiculous one for any Vulcan, but for once, Spock decides to take the Ambassador's advice and let his human side peek through for a few moments. He allows himself to dwell on all of the questions that have been building in his mind for some time since the _Enterprise's_ departure from Earth. Will the planet be just as hot? Will children still take the traditional climb to a mountain summit at seven years of age? Will there even be any mountains?

The feeling of tightening stomach muscles and fluttering nerves falls upon Spock again. He has become increasingly aware of his anxiety over the past few days, but he has not been able to pinpoint exactly how to rid himself of it. Meditation does not seem to work as it usually does. He finally decides after several sleepless nights that the anxiety will only go away once they have reached New Vulcan and all of his questions are answered.

New Vulcan. He wonders again what he will find when they arrive. Will T'Pring be there waiting for him? (Deep down he hopes that she will not.) Will building already have begun? Where will refugees stay? How will they grieve? Or have they already done so?

Vulcans are a stoic people, and never has Spock ever seen any of them, en masse, deal with something as life altering as the past few weeks have been. He is not sure what to expect. He knows there will not be an open outpouring of emotion and grief, but in some way he hopes that there will be physical signs of distress. He wants to see the pain on their faces that he felt as his mother's hands slipped from his grasp forever.

"Kirk to Spock. Are you there?"

The Captain's familiar drawl echoes in his empty cabin. Spock reaches over and presses the button to the comm system on the wall.

"Spock here, Captain."

"I know it's past hours, but could you make your way down to the bridge? We're coming up on New Vulcan."

Spock's stomach tightens of its own accord once again. "Yes, Captain."

"Kirk out."

Spock pulls his boots back on quickly, surprised that they should be arriving at the new planet at this hour. He exits his cabin, walks down the corridor, and suddenly finds himself face-to-face with Uhura. Her face is passive as she stands in front of him. The anxious mass in his stomach twists further.

"I . . . I thought perhaps you wouldn't mind some company on the way to the bridge," she says quietly, not meeting his eyes. "The Captain sent for me, and I knew that you . . . well, I knew he would call you as well."

Spock feels his hand twitch in the urge to lift her chin to meet his eyes, but he stops himself.

"You know that I would not mind your company at any time of the day, Ny- Lieutenant."

She lowers her eyes further and falls in step next to him. Spock watches her out of the corner of his eye and notices her fervent blinking and the haughty look she gets when she is trying not to cry. There are so many things he wishes to say, but he cannot seem to give them voice, so they continue in silence.

Being in the turbolift with her is like reliving a dream and perhaps all of it was, it feels so long ago. She stands apart from him this time, one hand clasping the other arm at the elbow as she stares ahead at the transparent doors. He gazes ahead as well, arms clasped militarily behind his back. The tension tightens the longer they remain in the dead quiet. Just as he is afraid the façade of calm is going to snap the doors open with a _whoosh_, and he steps out onto the bridge.

Kirk rotates around in his chair as the pair walk in and eyes them beadily. Just as he opens his mouth to say something inappropriate or brash about the two of them exiting the turbolift together Spock speaks quickly.

"Have we come upon New Vulcan, Captain?" He stops behind the Captain's chair, and Kirk swivels around to look at him.

"We should be coming upon it very soon. Isn't that right, Sulu?"

Sulu looks back from his place at the helm, prods at Chekov, who is nodding asleep, and responds, "Aye, Captain."

"Captain, we're being hailed," Uhura calls from her place at the communications station.

"Up on the screen if you will, _Nyota_," Kirk says, spinning his chair around and giving her an insolent smile. She smiles back tightly and rolls her eyes as the face of a very familiar Vulcan swims into view on the screen.

"Ambassador, I didn't think we'd be seeing you so soon!" Jim Kirk cries, launching himself forward to the edge of his chair with excitement.

The older Vulcan scans the bridge with a content expression, bringing his eyes to rest on his younger self for a moment longer than everyone else.

"Did I not say that I would be overseeing the rebuilding of Vulcan, Jim?" he asks, raising a singular eyebrow pointedly.

Jim Kirk still shivers every time the Ambassador addresses him in such a familiar way. He shakes his head. "I don't remember it."

The younger Spock steps forward then. "I believe you spoke of it to myself only."

The Ambassador's lips turn up slightly. "Yes, forgive me, I believe you are correct. I am here, helping to rebuild Vulcan, so that my younger self may remain with Starfleet for a time. There is much that needs to be done. It will better serve all of us if you beam down at the earliest possible time tomorrow to review our plans for rebuilding and repopulation. There are still many procedures to finalise."

"I'll beam down with an architectural team, Mr. Spock, Uhura, and Dr. McCoy tomorrow then," Kirk says. He has the look of a madman preparing for world domination. In other words, the young Captain is in his element.

Ambassador Spock raises his hand in the Vulcan salute. "Very well. We meet tomorrow."

The younger Spock raises his hand in return before turning to the Captain to request leave for the night. Jim, however, is puzzling over his right hand as he pushes two fingers together attempting to contort his unruly appendage into the salute as well, though the Ambassador is no longer on the viewing screen. He looks up at Spock in frustration.

"How the hell do you do that?"

The young Vulcan's mouth tips up slightly at the corners in what could be called a smile as he turns on his heel, leaving the young Captain to ponder over his current predicament.

**Authoress' Note:** I'm trying to break the habit of writing these notes after the chapter, but I just couldn't help it this time. I wrote that first note before beginning the chapter, and now that I've finished I feel like I deserve to rant a little. This story is tough. Maybe I'm making it that way for myself, but I just felt stuck with this chapter. Normally when I write I know where my characters are going and what they're going to say next. With this story I don't feel that. Everything feels like guesswork. *shrug* Perhaps with time things will get better.


	5. More Than Words

**Authoress' Note: **I think I'm finally getting into the swing of things with this chapter. There are lots of ST09 references to references in other ST movies in here, so be on the look out. I like doing that kind of thing. So, I was planning on making this a bit longer, but the part I wanted to add on the end (with Spock Prime and his younger self) felt like too much, so you'll just have to wait till the next installment. :D Oh, and because I haven't done one of these: All characters, etc. © Paramount.

**More Than Words**

"Spock, may I speak with you my son?"

Spock looks up as his father enters the flap of one of the rudimentary shelters that have been set up across the dusty sands of the foreign landscape. Thousands of them stretch outward toward the dunes of hills in the distance over which a sun, much like that of their own on Vulcan, rises every morning. In the opposite direction where mountains rise up majestically architects and builders are already hard at work recapturing the very essence of Vulcan life in stone structures.

Spock bows his head in response and sets the charts he has been looking over aside to signal his attentiveness. Sarek tucks his hands into the broad sleeves of his tunic, a garment that must have been more splendid in earlier times when the harsh elements could not so easily prey upon it.

He clears his throat before looking at his son pointedly. He has never been the type of Vulcan to "beat around the bush", as Amanda used to say, and so, with another step forward, he speaks.

"You must forgive me for the illogic of this question, but I believe your mother would insist I ask it of you. Spock . . . How are you?"

Spock looks down trying to clear his mind of the rush of memories that seem to surface unbidden with the statement of such a question, each one more painful than the last. The one he remembers most vividly is his mother, looking like a goddess in her Vulcan dress, telling him before his meeting with the Vulcan High Command that he would be fine. It breaks his heart to remember the cold reply he gave her; that fine would not be acceptable. More than anything he wishes he could tell her that things are fine right now.

When Spock speaks his voice is quiet and taut with underlying emotion that he dare not show.

"I am. . . fine, Father. I trust that it is appropriate for me to ask the very same illogical question of you?"

Sarek nods, and for an instant all the pain and grief he feels welling in his heart displays itself openly upon his face. For an instant. Then all is calm, cool Vulcan intellect once again.

"I am here to inquire upon another matter," he says, turning back to the business and situation at hand as though nothing had occurred. Spock can still feel the raw emotion crackling in the air between them. It sparked with the same intensity as the feeling that had emanated from Uhura in the turbolift only a day ago. "That of your connection with the young Lieutenant."

"Do not speak just yet," Sarek continues, as Spock opens his mouth to offer forth an explanation, "In the end, there may be nothing you need to defend."

Spock nods, clasping his hands tightly behind his back, the only outward sign that his nerves are fluttering again. Sarek glances at his son momentarily before continuing in a straightforward and monotone voice.

"She is an altogether pleasing young woman, and I have no doubt that your mother would have loved her. I admit that I would have no disagreement with her or your relationship considering my own personal history. It would seem hypocritical to deny you of such a right. However, times have changed. Vulcan finds itself in a very different position, and I must implore you to remember your people and the duty you have to them. It will be important to do so now more than ever."

He looks at his son grimly, who stares back, unblinking, before lowering his eyes and opening his mouth to speak.

"As of the beginning of this week any connection I may have had with the Lieutenant is null. It is perhaps debatable whether she will ever wish to extend friendship to me again. I broke none of our laws or customs while in her company, and would wish to remind you that I am your son, a Vulcan, and therefore my first duty has always been to my people. I would not have you forget that."

"I am sorry to have doubted you."

"There is nothing to forgive. You are my father."

Silence falls between them, and Spock glances back at his star charts, unsure of the present course of action. The abrupt end to the conversation hangs like broken threads between the two Vulcans, waiting to be reconnected. Suddenly, the young Vulcan remembers his apprehension over another young woman, one who has not seen in many years.

"Is T'Pring alive?" he asks, anxious to hear of his bride-to-be's fate. He is ashamed to even think about her dying, but at the same time a small bubble of hope expands in the deepest recesses of his chest.

"No, my son, she is not. There is no need to worry yourself on her account," Sarek says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. If he had to admit it, he had never been fond of the young woman himself.

"It is illogical to feel worry over such a thing, Father. I merely wished to inquire as to her state of being."

"Yes, I understand."

Despite his stoic response, Spock is relieved beyond belief. The idea that he may be bonded in the future to someone worse than T'Pring does not even cross his mind at that moment. Sarek senses his son's relief and does not bother chastising him for it.

"Have you any more questions, Spock?"

"No, I do not believe . . ." Spock stops mid-sentence, lost in another train of thought. Sarek pauses before the tent opening, waiting.

"I- Have you- Have you spoken at all with the Ambassador?"

Sarek's trained face shows no hint of surprise at this question, but inside he wonders why his son did not ask about it before.

"Yes, I have spoken with him on numerous occasions since our arrival, concerning plans for rebuilding, amongst other things."

Spock nods, and Sarek knows that he wishes to ask more. "Speak your mind, Spock."

"Is it not odd," the young Vulcan asks, "to be speaking to a much older son? I admit I cannot fully comprehend just how much the two of us have in common. It has all been illuminating and disconcerting at the same time."

"No, it is not odd. Together, you are my son, and apart, you are still my son. It gives me a certain amount of peace knowing that you will be in his place someday, that you are a part of a self-fulfilling prophesy. I would remind you though, that your mother and I would not want you to be defined by such a thing. We- I will be proud no matter where your choices lead you."

"Thank you," Spock says quietly. As Sarek makes to exit the tent, his son rises and holds up the Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper, Father."

"Live long and prosper, my son."


	6. Rebuilding Hope

**Authoress' Note:** I'd just like to start out by giving a huge thank you to Aelwydd for having the guts to really speak up and state things she questioned and was confused about in the last chapter. It really helped me to realise some of the hasty mistakes I had made and enable me to correct. So please, if you read something that just doesn't sit right with you mention it in your review. As long as you're respectful I really won't mind taking what you have to say into consideration. It can only better my writing in the long run. :D Please note that I have made a few minor changes to the previous chapter. Don't forget to review when you're done reading! All characters, etc. © Paramount.

**Rebuilding Hope**

The Ambassador watches his younger self escape the heat of the sun by sitting under an open tent to pore over architectural plans. He wonders why the young Vulcan has not been sent off with one of the exploration parties to scan the wilderness for signs of plant and animal life. It would be more fitting for him to be out there than virtually cooped up in his own world of uselessness.

The young Vulcan does not hear the older man's stealthy approach, but as he comes into his younger self's line of vision, Spock looks up. He stands up hastily, absentmindedly pulling down the hem of his dark blue Starfleet uniform. It is illogical for the older Vulcan to feel a sense of amazement at this small similarity between them, for are they not one in the same? Yet, he does.

"You are not of the exploration party?" the Ambassador asks, motioning for Spock to sit down again.

The young Vulcan lowers himself into his chair, as Ambassador Spock pulls out one for himself.

"No, I have not been assigned to the first group of the day. The Captain insisted that he would not assign both of us in the same party in case some danger should befall the group. His logic is sound in that respect."

"But you would much rather be out there with the Captain than here?"

Spock almost smiles at his older self. It is amazing to him just how alike they are. It is almost as though his thoughts are being read aloud to him.

"Precisely."

The older Vulcan nods his head and clasps his hands in front of himself, gazing out over the barren tented landscape. Spock longs to ask the older version of himself a thousand questions at once, all of which sound illogical and ridiculous in his mind, but he fears, almost, that if he does not get them out now, he will never be at rest.

"Sir, I wonder if you could tell me," he begins seriously, "if- if my mother . . ."

"If our mother lived longer in my universe?" the older Spock finishes for his younger self. The amazement it seems does not end with him. It was the first question that Jim Kirk had asked him so innocently in the cave on Delta Vega, and it pains him to have to answer in the same way he had answered his closest friend.

"Yes, she did."

The young Vulcan hangs his head to hide the grief still visible on his face. He twitches slightly, startled, when the older Vulcan places a hand on his shoulder in a most un-Vulcan-like way. It's not that the contact makes him uncomfortable, it's just it reminds him of his mother again in more ways than he can count. Inside he wonders if someday, like this older counterpart, he will be able to accept the human side of himself so readily.

When the Ambassador takes his hand away Spock finds that he is finally able to speak again.

"Will you ever go home?" he asks, "I have done the research and calculations myself, and there are several options for time travel that are available to you. Surely there will be people waiting and wondering where you disappeared to."

The older Spock shakes his head, a glint of sadness in his eyes. "One thing you do not understand is that of all of your comrades alive now, in my universe, they have long since passed away. I am the only one left, and that is a lonely prospect when you think about going back. Disregarding emotion, however, there are other reasons I may not leave just yet. I set out to right a wrong in the universe and created more havoc than I had intended. I have changed too many lives, and I feel that it is my duty, or prime directive, to set things on a straighter path before returning home."

"That is most logical," the younger Spock says, nodding his head slightly.

"No, not logical," the Ambassador responds, and his younger self arches an eyebrow, "It is only right. You will learn in time that the needs of the many outweigh-"

"The needs of the few or the one."

The two Spocks, young and old, stare at each other, reciprocating the same look of fascination and near surprise on each other's faces.

---

Uhura sits alone under an open tent where Spock had sat only moments ago. It surprised her how quickly he had stood up upon her arrival and mumbled something about meeting the exploration party before hurrying off in the direction of the dust rising up from the building sites. She was not daft and knew quite well that Spock had not been included in the exploration party and that they would not be arriving for quite a few hours yet. She sighed, thankful for a moment that the atmosphere on the new planet was not so thin as it had been on Vulcan.

All morning and into the afternoon she had been hard at work translating between Terran English, Vulcan, and what seemed like hundreds of other alien languages that had cropped up overnight. Everyone had heard of the exiled people's plight, and _everyone_ wanted to help. A large group of Terrans had brought seed packets and flora of all kinds to grow on the new planet, while a smaller group of Andorians was busy passing around some of their infamous ale to the non-Vulcan workers, which wasn't helping at all. Throw sympathetic Romulans, Argelians, and Denebians into the mix and chaos is wreaked.

Never before, not even at Starfleet, had she been given the chance to work with so many alien languages in one setting before. She couldn't even begin to comprehend just how many she still had yet to learn. Even after a trying conversation with a rather drunk Andorian she felt proud of herself for being one of the few who could understand the man in the end.

She had hoped to seek out Spock and speak with him about an idea she'd had just that morning. It was one of the most important decisions she felt she could make for herself, and as she watched him walk briskly away she felt the pride and usefulness from only minutes earlier ebb away and drain her of energy along with it. The empty tent begins to feel like an oasis after being out in the heat for so long, and she closes her eyes as a slight breeze tickles her face.

"Would you care for some water? I can imagine you are not used to the temperature of the planet just yet."

Startled from her reverie, Uhura snaps her eyes open to take in the tall, thin older Vulcan. She takes the glass of water from him without a word, drawing her delicate eyebrows together in confusion. She feels nonsensical in admitting to herself that he seems terribly familiar though she cannot place where she has seen him before. In a way, he looks almost like Sarek, though she knows that it is not he.

"Forgive me for speaking out of turn," she says in the Vulcan tongue, "I do not believe we have met before. What is your name?"

The Vulcans lips twitch upward, and if she squints, Uhura can almost make out a smile. She sets the glass of water down, as the older Vulcan clasps his hands behind his back and surveys the landscape.

"I thought perhaps Spock would have told you about me, but I see that is not the case."

"No, I'm afraid Spock and I have not spoken much as of late," she responds politely, wondering how on Earth he could know of their relationship.

The Ambassador gazes upon the young woman before him lamenting many things at once: that his younger self gave up one such as her, and that he had never, in his own universe, taken the time to truly know Uhura himself. They never were close, though he remembers refuting her early attempts at flirtation. It saddens him now to think of the way he had shunned her, how he had shunned nearly every woman such as she in his life.

"I am Spock," he states simply, "albeit, a much older version. But, we are one in the same."

Her eyebrows shoot up at this confession, and she crosses her arms, eyeing him beadily. "Oh really? You're sure he didn't send you over here to mess with me so that he could sleep peacefully knowing I would not bother him again?"

Spock is surprised at how cold her words sound, and he catches himself almost frowning.

"I do not understand the nature of humans to goad and prank one another. The logic behind those particular actions escapes me. I assure you, I am telling the truth."

"Prove it."

Her eyes are challenging, and Spock is almost afraid that he has bitten off more than he can chew, to coin a phrase of his mothers. He had expected to have an enlightening conversation with this universe's Uhura, but now he finds himself accepting the challenge she offers. When he has finished giving the details of his connection with Nero and their travails into the past, she stares, dumbfounded, her hands sliding loosely into her lap.

"I-I had no idea," she says, her eyes wide and unblinking, "He, I mean you, didn't say anything about it to me. Although, I suppose we weren't on speaking terms at the time. I just- I just don't believe it."

Tentatively she reaches out a hand, and he lets her brush her fingertips against his cheek, as though that will reassure her of his obvious existence. She takes her hand away, and stares at her fingers for a moment, her mouth slightly open in utter amazement. She meets his gaze, and laughs at herself for acting in such a manner. Questions tumble out of her mouth, one after the other, before she can stop them.

"What am I like in your universe? Was I ever _involved_ with you? Where am I now?"

The older Vulcan holds up a hand to stop the barrage as Uhura gasps for air. She can see that he is amused by the twinkle in his eye, a look she is not sure she has ever seen in her own Spock.

"No, you were never involved in any relationship with me in my universe, not as you are involved with me here. That is all I shall say on the matter. It seems I have polluted enough minds with visions of the future already."

Uhura's shoulders droop, and she looks down at her hands. Spock lifts her chin with one finger, a gesture she finds to be familiar. "You must understand that you are your own person. You still have your whole life and all the decisions that come along with it ahead of you. I would not wish to influence you in any way."

She nods, understanding, but also saddened by his words. He senses her unhappiness with his response, and does something he had not expected he would be able to do. He takes one of her hands gently in both of his, holding it there between the two of them. He looks her in the eye, and for the first time realises just how deep and brown they are. It is no wonder that his younger self had fallen in love with her in the first place.

"Do not lose heart yet. Go and speak with him. Do not let him remain the stubborn Vulcan I know him to be."

She smiles now, radiantly, and he lets her hand fall from his grasp back to her side.

"Thank you," she says, unbridled excitement seeping into her voice in a rush.

He bows his head in response, and when he looks up again she is hurrying away, her silken hair swaying to and fro in the dry wind.


	7. A Parting of the Ways

**Authoress' Note:** Ladies and gents, Spock and Uhura are not getting back together in this story. True love (as some believe it to be) will not prevail. I am not a SpockxUhura shipper, so I will not write them together. Besides I love angst too much to even allow them together. Please understand that. I would hate for people to get the wrong impression and be disappointed in the end. Please review when you're done! Thanks! All characters, etc. © Paramount.

**A Parting of the Ways**

"You're sure you want to do this, Uhura?" Jim Kirk asks the young woman standing before him with her arms clasped casually behind her back.

She rolls her eyes, and Kirk is grateful that they can stop being serious for at least one moment. He still isn't quite used to the idea that being captain isn't fun and games all of the time.

"I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't intend to go through with it, Captain," she exhales in an exasperated breath.

Kirk cocks an eyebrow at the defiant expression on her face as she moves to cross her arms over her chest.

"I guess this means you can call me Jim," he says nonchalantly, one half of him joking and the other half seriously hoping she will consider it. He spins around in the captain's chair and eventually comes to a slow grinding halt in from of his communications officer, or soon to be ex-communications officer. Uhura gives him one of her sweet never-ending smiles, and just when he thinks she's about to agree . . .

"No."

_Damn._ Kirk twists his chair around again to buy some time. Uhura's blurred form whizzes past him a few more times before he sets his foot down and comes to a sudden stop. Spock. He hadn't thought about his green-blooded first officer since he, the Captain, had left to explore the planet a few days previous. In fact, now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen Spock in that amount of time as well. Discreetly, he peers about for his communicator, which seems to have already been misplaced.

"Uhura, have you seen Spock lately?" he inquires, watching her beadily from narrowed eyes.

The young woman shifts uneasily from foot to foot under his gaze. She shakes her head and looks down at the ground.

"I haven't seen him since I spoke to the Ambassador. I went to look for him after our conversation, but no one had seen him for some time. I thought perhaps you knew where he was."

"No, I don't. See, I thought you would knew."

She glares at him. "I'm not his mother. He doesn't need my supervision all the time you know. He probably went to speak with his father."

"Good one, Lieutenant. His mother's dead."

Uhura purses her lips and throws her hands up in the air, infuriated. "You are impossible! All I came here to ask was whether I have your permission for leave. Is that too much to ask?"

"No, I guess not," Kirk drawls with a shrug, "I will miss your gorgeous face on this bridge if it makes you feel any better."

She gives him a tight smile and tosses her hair, "No, not really, but thanks anyway." Turning on her heel, she stalks off toward the turbolift. The weight that seems to be pressing down on her heart still hasn't gone away after her conversation with the captain, and she expects it won't disappear until she speaks with Spock again. If only she can find him.

---

"Mr. Scott, Spock here."

The young Scotsman's voice crackles over the communicator. "Scott here."

"Ready to beam up."

"Aye, sir. Right away. Scott out."

Spock flips his communicator closed and stares out over the desert landscape one last time. The past few days had been some of the longest of his life, and he is thoroughly ready to take leave of his new home world. He had spent the remainder of his time with his father and the other members of the Vulcan High Council who were currently arguing over where to place the new Vulcan Science Academy. No one seemed to remember the exact layout of the old planet, and most of the architectural blueprints had been lost.

Spock feels the familiar tingling sensation as he beams up to the _Enterprise_. He steps off of the transporter pad and exits the automatic doors intending to speak with the captain before confining himself to his quarters for some much needed meditation. He almost passes Uhura as she leaves her own room in a rush. He wouldn't have noticed her in his deep reverie had she not run directly into him.

Stumbling, she caught herself on his waiting arm and froze. Spock set her upright again, and made to move around her, but she caught his wrist tightly with one hand. He did not struggle but stopped completely and stared at her, waiting for an explanation for her behaviour.

"Spock, I need to talk to you," she begins, staring back at him unwaveringly. He's always admired her being able to do so. "It's not about us. Well . . . no, I suppose it is about us, but it's about other things as well, and I just . . . come in and I can tell you exactly what I mean."

She says all of this rather quickly and lets out her breath in one short gust that leaves her feeling slightly light-headed. Or maybe that's because Spock is now standing directly next to her, and she still hasn't let go of his arm. Dropping her hands to her sides, she steps back into her room and waits expectantly for the young Vulcan to follow. It takes him one step to enter, and the door whooshes shut behind him.

"Lights," Uhura says quietly.

The overhead lights twinkle on, and Uhura gasps in surprise as she finds Spock's face only inches from her own. She takes a few hasty steps back and lowers herself into a chair. Spock remains standing, his face a stony mask and his hands clasped behind his back. When she doesn't say anything for quite some time he raises an eyebrow carefully.

"Sorry," she says, "I'll get to the point."

She stands up and straightens her uniform in a professional manner. He wishes she wouldn't. He wishes he could hold her and kiss her in the darkness of her room where they would be out of sight of the crew and the Vulcan elders. Uhura clears her throat and Spock brings his attention back to her.

"I won't be leaving with the _Enterprise_ tomorrow. I've decided to stay on Vulcan to help translate between all the different people who will be staying here to help with the rebuilding. I have already informed the Vulcan High Council, and they see no reason why I should not stay. They are looking for those skilled in xenolinguistics."

Spock does not know what to say. How often that seems to happen when he is dealing with Nyota Uhura he notes to himself. She bounces up and down on the balls of her feet, anxiously waiting for him to respond.

"You have done this because of us, have you not?" he asks, not at all sure if he would really like to know the answer.

"I guess so. There doesn't really seem to be a choice. Besides the experience will be a good one to have on my record."

She tries to smile, but it is painful and tight. She can tell that he doesn't believe a word that's coming out of her mouth. She gestures toward him noncommittally. "I mean, unless you're going to get down on one knee and propose to me now, I don't see why I should stay."

"You're a skilled xenolinguist. The _Enterprise_ needs you. Would that not be reason enough?"

"Vulcan needs me," she counters boldly. She thought perhaps that given the ultimatum he would break and decide to marry her. She shouldn't' have been so naïve. He would not do so even she got on her knees and begged him to. That left her with only one choice.

He nods, and though it doesn't make him happy to admit it (he is a Vulcan, he shouldn't feel happy anyway, he reminds himself.) he knows that it will be best for both of them to go their separate ways. He only hopes that he may give her a proper good-bye tomorrow. Space is vast and dangerous, and he would hate to leave her in such a way that would suggest he had not loved her. He might never get the chance to tell her so again.


	8. Let This Not Be Our Last GoodBye

**Let This Not Be Our Last Good-Bye**

Spock waits outside of Uhura's door and imagines just how she might have felt before her confrontation with him only a week and a half ago. So much has changed since then. In fact, their entire world seems to have been turned upside down. The feelings of apprehension he feels growing in the pit of his stomach make no logical sense to Spock. There is nothing that is going to be unexpected in this conversation. He will go in, tell her he will miss her company and . . .

"You should've knocked earlier, Commander, instead of brooding over my doorstep."

Spock masks the surprise on his face and takes in the sight of Uhura lolling against the doorframe. She is no longer dressed in her regulation garb. In fact he isn't sure he has ever seen her dressed in such a manner before. He is accustomed to seeing Earth women wearing such fashions, but somehow this tight-fitting and low cut item is not organic with her being.

She turns and pads back into her room, barefoot, though Spock catches a glimpse of a pair of rather high, pointed shoes stashed to the right of the door. Uhura brushes her hair up into a sweeping ponytail, angles her face to both sides in the mirror, and then lets it fall back around her shoulders. Spock longs to reach out and run his fingers through her hair, feeling its silkiness. He has to remind himself more than once that he is here for only one reason.

"You are leaving soon, Lieutenant."

Uhura's reflection in the mirror raises an eyebrow, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

"I didn't think you capable of such an obvious statement, Spock."

She turns to him and twirls about in place, her arms outstretched. Brushing down the front of her black dress and patting her back into place she strikes a pose.

"Well then, what do you think?" she asks, putting on a smug look, "Do you think the Vulcans will approve?"

Spock clears his throat. "I think they will be intrigued. Surely you do not intend to wear such inappropriate attire for your studies?"

Uhura shakes her head and makes her away to the built in bureau. After pressing a few buttons one drawer slides open, and Uhura lifts out a regulation skirt and sweater.

"Of course not. What do you think Starfleet gives us these for, hmm?" she says and chuckles to herself quietly as she folds them neatly and places them inside her suitcase sitting open on the bed. She stares at it briefly, lost in thought, before turning her attention back to Spock. Her countenance has changed completely in a mere instant. Her eyebrows are drawn together, and her eyes, he has never seen them look so tired and sad.

"Why are you here, Spock?" she asks, as she leans against the wall, one leg tucked behind the other. "Surely you didn't come all the way down here to cite regulations to me, did you?"

"No, I did not," he states simply, looking at the floor rather than Uhura's softened gaze. "I simply came to say good-bye."

Uhura's face crumples into the most beautiful smile Spock has ever seen, more beautiful than even his mother's. At the same time, her lip trembles, and tears glisten in her eyes. She takes a few tentative steps toward him and puts her hands gently on his arms. He shivers involuntarily at the touch, and reciprocates the feeling by placing his hands under her arms and near the small of her back. She swallows hard but does not break the contact.

"You wouldn't mind if I kissed you good-bye, would you?"

He shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak. He closes his eyes as she presses her lips against his for the last time, and he savours every moment of it; the heat radiating from her skin, the softness of her lips against his, and the gentle touch of her hands. When he pulls away he feels light-headed as though she has sucked all the breath out of him in that instant.

Uhura lets her hands drop and wipes half-heartedly at the tears trailing down her cheeks. Spock reaches forward, as he had done once before, and wipes a stray one away with his thumb. She glances at him before looking away, a thousand different emotions running through her mind and coursing through her veins.

"Good luck with Starfleet, Spock," she whispers, her voice shaky, as she turns her back on him.

"Live long and prosper, Nyota," he replies, and backs out of her room slowly. Her response is thick with emotion and almost inaudible in the suppressive silence stretching between them.

"I will do neither, because you have been torn from me forever."

The doors shut with a thud of finality, and Spock hangs his head in grief before walking away. Now he finally understands why Doctor McCoy drinks all the time. He could do with a glass himself, to drown all his sorrow.

**Authoress' Note:** Well, that's that. I think I've finally sunk that ship all the way down. I hope. These sorts of pairings always have a habit of turning up in nasty places. Ah well . . . we shall see. Please review! Thanks to everyone who has so far!


	9. One Step Is All It Takes

**Authoress' Note:** Sorry this is taking me so long. I thought perhaps I'd sit down and write a few chapters before posting another one, and it turns out that's probably the best idea. I should be able to get the next 5 or so chapters out over the next week or so. Things are definitely going to pick up from here. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! You all keep me grounded. :D Lol. Sorry for Spock being a bit uncharacteristic at the end. It's just hard to get that character right all the time.

**One Step Is All It Takes**

Kirk watches his young starship shrink into the distance and darkness of space as the shuttlecraft makes its way back to Earth. His time aboard the _Enterprise_ has been some of the best and most satisfying days of his entire life, and he hopes that as they hurtle back towards San Francisco that they will not be his last. He cranes his neck in a last attempt to steal a glimpse of his ship but finds that it has already been swallowed up by the mass of stars in the heavens surrounding it.

McCoy nudges his companion in the ribs to get his attention. Kirk snaps his head away from the opposite window and follows his friend's pointed finger fixed upon the skyline. They are finally home for some much needed rest. Despite this fact, Kirk somehow feels that his home is not here on the ground anymore, but up there in that abyss called space within the safety of his ship. As they exit the shuttlecraft he glances wistfully upward one last time, and decides that in some way he knows how Spock feels losing Uhura. He too feels as though he has lost a lover and close friend.

Realising he's fallen behind from the group, Kirk jogs a bit to catch up. Doing so seems to lift his spirits, and he throws an arm around McCoy from behind.

"Two weeks of shore leave, Bones," he states, and his friend raises an eyebrow, "What're we gonna do in all that time?"

McCoy puffs up slightly and looks his friend straight in the eye. "I'll tell you what I'm gonna do as soon as this debriefing gets done."

"What's that?"

"I'm sure as hell gonna high tail it to the nearest bar and get me some real hard liquor to drink."

Kirk laughs and asks, "You want me to join you?"

McCoy gives him a look that says do-you-even-have-to-ask, but he replies anyway. "As long as you don't decide to cozy up to every girl in that bar and ditch me like you usually do."

Kirk looks affronted and throws up his hands in front of his chest as though he cannot believe his best friend would accuse him of such a thing.

"I wouldn't do that, Bones!"

"You sure as hell won't if I have anything to say about it."

---

The debriefing goes on for much longer than expected, and Kirk is finding it harder and harder to concentrate. He yawns once and looks up at the astronomical clock on the wall. McCoy shoots him a look out of the corner of his eye, but Kirk ignores it and gazes about at the rest of his crew instead. Every single one of them, he concludes, would rather be somewhere else at this moment. Even the pointy-eared bastard seems to have other things on his mind. Finally, the Starfleet officer begins his conclusion, and Kirk straightens up.

"You and your crew, Captain, will have two weeks shore leave here in San Francisco after which time you will be shuttled back to the _Enterprise_. We do not wish for you to leave on a deep space mission just yet. There are, however, a few maintenance type jobs on planets nearby that will need to be taken care of. We trust you can do this in an efficient manner. As such, we will expect your arrival back on Earth within the next month or so at which time further missions will be discussed. That will be all."

Kirk's jaw drops. He closes it sharply and looks about at the rest of his crew to see their reactions. None seem to be at all upset by the fact that they will not be going on a deep space mission right away. In fact, they all seem positively indifferent. Kirk furrows his brow and sets his mouth in a line of indignation. He stands up abruptly, just as the officer is writing something into his PADD and preparing to leave.

"Sorry, but I don't think I heard correctly," he says, coolly, "Did you say that we will **not** be going on a deep space mission?"

"That's right, Captain." The officer fixes Kirk with just as cool a stare, perhaps thinking that the young captain would back down.

"Is there a . . . a reason for this sudden change in plans?" Kirk splutters, gesticulating wildly.

"It was specifically requested that you gain more experience in command before being committed to deep space missions. We will judge whether you are ready based on this voyage."

Kirk opens his mouth to speak, but McCoy kicks him hard in the leg. He sits down hard and shuts his mouth, his hands curling into fists by his side.

"Is that all?" the officer asks, a smile curling across his lips.

Kirk nods mechanically, and the officer exits the room without another word. As soon as he's gone, Kirk rounds on McCoy.

"What the hell was that for?" he snarls.

"It was for shutting you up, that's what," McCoy replies gruffly, matching Kirk's hard stare. He softens slightly and puts a hand on his friend's shoulder before gesturing around at their fellow crewmembers who are watching the scene intently.

"We're tired, Jim," McCoy says nodding at a few of the men and women around him, "Everything since Nero has been non-stop. It's time to slow down and take a break. Don't get ahead of yourself. There's plenty of time in the world to go deep space exploring, trust me."

Kirk nods reluctantly and looks about at the tired and drawn faces of his crew. Even Spock, who has one hand against his temple, looks in need of a rest. He nods again. "I'm sorry," he says, and looks down at his hands, "I should've taken that into consideration."

A murmur of "That's all right" and "See you in two weeks, Captain" wash over him as the crew files out of the room some patting him on the back or shaking his hand as they go. Kirk sits in silence for a few minutes afterward lost in thought until McCoy shakes his shoulder.

"About time we got ourselves a drink," he says. It's not a question. It's an order. Kirk nods and motions for Spock, the only other person left in the room, to follow him.

"C'mon Spock, I'm sure you're in need of a drink as well."

Before the young Vulcan can protest he finds himself being swept out of the room by a very eager McCoy. The three men make their way to the nearest bar. It's crowded and dark when they arrive. The music blares loudly, and several girls from Starfleet can be seen dancing on the designated dance floor. They sidle up to the bar and take a seat, sweeping their eyes over the scene. Kirk orders three beers, which he and McCoy sip at for a half an hour. Spock sits in silence refusing to touch the beer on the counter.

After another beer and another half hour of crushing silence between them, Kirk leans toward McCoy.

"What are you gonna do for the rest of shore leave?" he asks loudly over the music. McCoy doesn't respond.

"Bones, what're you . . ."

"Captain, I believe the doctor is preoccupied at the moment," Spock states matter-of-factly, and Kirk turns toward McCoy to see what he means.

McCoy is turned the other way talking to a woman still in her blue Starfleet uniform. He's already bought her a drink, and the two are chatting away as though Kirk and Spock do not exist. Kirk stares, slack jaw, for a few minutes before McCoy stands up and turns to his companions.

He jerks a thumb over his shoulder at the auburn haired girl, "You don't mind do you?" he drawls.

Kirk dismisses him with a wave of his hand. "Nah, go for it, Bones. You deserve it."

McCoy slaps Kirk on the shoulder, an alcohol induced smile spreading across his face. "Thanks, Jim. You and Spock have fun. See you tomorrow."

Kirk nods and raises his bottle in response, "Yeah, sure." He puts it to his lips and drinks the rest in one gulp as McCoy slips out of sight. He glances at Spock.

"I guess it's just you and me now," he says and waves at the bartender to get another beer, his third (or was it fourth?) of the night.

"Captain, I do not think – "

"It's Jim, Spock," Kirk slurs as he tips the beer bottle upward and downs it all in the space of half a minute.

---

If Spock were human he would be swearing to himself as he half carries, half drags his captain back to their assigned flat for the night. Kirk's head lolls against his shoulder, and the young man smiles blearily up at him.

"I can walk on my own," he drawls and struggles slightly against Spock's grasp under his arms.

"I would not advise doing so, Captain, as you are likely to fall," the young Vulcan intones wisely and continues to stumble along with his friend by his side.

When they arrive at the flat Spock gently places Kirk on the couch before heading into the kitchen to make tea. It is something his mother used to do when he was sick or upset. Though he never showed much emotion, even when he was a child, Amanda always seemed to know when he what he was feeling. He came back into the sitting room to check on the Captain who opens his eyes slightly.

"I'm such a fool, Spock," he says, and suddenly his voice sounds more tired than drunk.

"A fool, Captain?"

Kirk nods, his head spinning. "I thought, after Nero, that everything would be back to normal. That life would go on, but look where we are now. We're a bunch of cadets running a starship. We don't have any experience whatsoever, and they expect great things out of us. I just don't get it."

He shakes his head again and looks up at the ceiling. Spock's throat constricts. He knows where this conversation is going.

"Every time I close my eyes all I can think about and dream about is Vulcan being sucked into oblivion and your mother dying. Sometimes I think that if we could have saved _everyone_ it would be all right now."

His voice breaks slightly, and Spock looks away for a moment, ashamed of such an emotional outburst. In truth, he feels like crying as well. Crying for his broken world and his broken family, for everything that should have been. He looks back at his captain then, and sees not just a superior officer, but Jim Kirk, the man who will one day be his friend.

One day? He swallows hard. It could be today, if only he could take that first step. Spock takes a hesitant step toward the couch. Kirk turns his head slowly toward him again.

"It will be all right, Jim. Maybe not tomorrow, but it will be someday."


	10. Familiar Faces

**Familiar Faces**

Kirk settles himself into the captain's chair and props one foot up on his opposite leg. He gazes around himself as his fellow officers ready themselves for departure and is convinced that he will never grow tired of this moment; this feeling of a well-ordered chaos on the brink of the precipice. Sulu and Chekov are both ready and situated at the helm. The two chatter away with each other about an equation that Chekov has finally solved while making all necessary checks on the life support systems and warp drive. Kirk shakes his head. That kid is way too smart for his own good.

He glances around, and his eyes land on the empty communications station. Someone will fill that place today, but it will not be Uhura. Kirk's smile falters slightly at that thought, but he steels himself quickly as Spock approaches.

"Report, Mr. Spock," he says.

The young Vulcan clasps his hands behind his back. "All the necessary shipments of equipment and supplies are on board, Captain. We are currently waiting for a few more shuttlecrafts to arrive with new medical personnel."

Kirk's smile splits into a full out grin. "That should make Bones happy."

Spock raises an eyebrow. "Indeed," he replies, a smirk barely visible at the corners of his lips, "If anything, it should raise his blood pressure several points."

Kirk laughs and then punches the comm button on the right arm of his chair. He sucks in a deep breath to calm himself.

"Scotty, are you there? This is the captain."

"Aye, Captain. All's well down here. We're ready for departure when you are."

"Hold on for a few more minutes. We're waiting for a few medical personnel, and then we'll be off. Kirk out."

He turns back to Spock who is gazing almost pensively at the empty communications station. Kirk leans back in his chair studying his Vulcan friend beadily.

"Spock?"

The first officer shakes his head and snaps his attention back to Kirk.

"Yes, Captain."

"Are you okay? You seem . . .distracted."

Spock lowers his guard a bit and meets Kirk's eyes. "I admit," he says in a lowered voice, "to being slightly unnerved by the fact that Lieutenant Uhura is not here. She was one of our best communications officers."

Kirk nods. "Don't worry Spock, I'm sure she's doing just fine on Vulcan."

Spock lifts an eyebrow quizzically not quite expecting the answer he received, but says nothing in return, obviously sobered by his friend's prediction. He does not dwell on Uhura too long however, as there is still much to be done to prepare for their departure, and he cannot let his new captain down.

---

McCoy scrubs at an imaginary stain on one of his empty lab tables as he waits impatiently for his new personnel to arrive. He takes a hard stab at the table with his cleaner and mutters something about incompetent nurses who can't clean anything correctly. It's bad enough he's new at this himself, but to make matters worse, he's been put in charge of at least a dozen more nurses and cadets who haven't seen any action in their lives. The thought almost makes him want to pull his hair out or drink himself into oblivion.

Light footsteps echo in the near empty room, and McCoy steels himself for the crash course he is going to have to give these kids when they arrive. He turns then and is taken aback by the sight of a tall, blonde woman gazing around at the room, her hands behind her back. She's a lot older than he had expected, though certainly not as old as him.

McCoy clears his throat gruffly, and the young woman turns her attention toward him. She smiles and puts out her hand. McCoy shakes it, still not sure what to make of her.

", Chief Medical Officer. You are?"

"Nurse Christine Chapel, at your service," she says her voice firm and her smile genuine.

"Chapel? Aren't you the one whose been working with Dr. Korby on bio-research?" McCoy asks, suddenly remembering her name from a dissertation he had read while at Starfleet.

"The very same."

"Well then, at least I won't be the only capable medic in this sickbay," he says, turning away from her as a slew of cadets enter the room from behind her. "We've got a lot of training to do, Nurse. If I ask you to do something, do it, no questions asked. I'm running a sickbay here, not a lounge. Everyone will do their part."

Nurse Chapel is already pulling on her gloves and suiting up as he finishes his rant. "What's first on the agenda, Doctor?" she asks as McCoy shakes his head in disbelief at the luck he has found today.

"Get the rest of 'em suited up and then we'll figure out which ones go where. I don't want my surgical teams mixed up with nurses who only know how to administer hypos. Why they'd give me people like that I don't know, but it's Starfleet so go figure."

"Yes, Doctor."

McCoy stares as the blonde-haired and blue-eyed woman makes her way around to each of the cadets in turn handing out uniforms and simultaneously taking notes on her PADD. He shakes his head again and fights down the urge to laugh at the utter luck of the situation. He decides then, as he watches his new charges suit up, that he's definitely going to like this woman, Christine Chapel.

**Authoress' Note: **W00t! Christine Chapel is back!! She was the one person from the new movie whose presence I felt was missing. She is a great asset to the original series and one of my favourite characters. Don't know if we'll have any Christine/Spock angst like TOS, but it's something I may play around with in the future. As always, thanks for reviewing! Keep 'em coming!


	11. Beasts of the Night

**Authoress' Note:** Goodness, don't all of you go getting your knickers in a twist over Spock and Christine! Now you know how I feel about Spock and Uhura! :P But seriously, I'm not going to get them together or anything like that. That'd be weird. I merely meant that it would probably be a one-sided affection from Christine just like in TOS. Please review if you have time! Thanks very much!

**Beasts of the Night**

Kirk has been looking forward to this mission for the duration of the previous week after he came to terms with the fact that they would not be going into deep space right away. Yet, now that they're off on their first real mission he's not sure if he can take one more thing going wrong.

First it was the food replicators spewing globs of inedible food in every direction when they were used. Then it was the transporter, which Scotty had been hard at work on for the past few days, since they would need it when they arrived at Caldos IV. Now, of all things, it was Kirk's chair. It was stuck, and this fact annoyed Kirk like nothing else had before.

They are due to arrive at the planet Caldos IV just on the edge of the Milky Way galaxy in a few days, and Kirk admits to himself that he is nervous about the encounter. Back at Starfleet, they were told that the native population, Terran colonists who had arrived on the world in the mid 21st century, was experiencing onsets of terrifying hallucinations. Kirk doesn't know what to expect. It sounds like they are all out of their minds to him, and he can't remember anything he has ever read at the Academy that might give him some hint as to what to do with such a group of people.

He decides to voice this concern to Spock one evening on the bridge after the rest of the crew have been given leave for some sleep. There will be only a few minutes for them to talk alone in between the change in shifts. Kirk shifts uncomfortably in his chair and fights down a twinge of annoyance at the fact that he cannot swivel around to look at his first officer. He stands up instead and approaches Spock slowly. The Vulcan has his eyes glued to the view screen, staring out at the emptiness of space ahead of them.

"Spock, can I ask you something?"

Spock glances at Kirk and raises an eyebrow as an invitation to continue. "Of course, Captain."

"You'll probably think I'm stupid for feeling like this, but I'm only human, so I guess it can't be helped, " he shrugs his shoulders even as Spock turns around to face him. "You see, I'm sorta nervous about going to Caldos IV. We don't know what's gonna happen or what condition the people will be in. What if they're crazy?"

Spock inhales deeply but doesn't break his eye contact with the Captain. Kirk assumes that he's thinking and remains silent.

"Jim," Spock begins, and Kirk perks up slightly at the sound of his name, "Although I do not admit to having any feelings of anxiety or apprehension, as it is illogical to become worried over something you have not experienced, I will admit to understanding how you feel. This will be a learning experience for all of us; field experience if you will. What comes will come, and we will just have to be prepared for it when it does."

Kirk doesn't say anything in response. In fact, he doesn't know what to say. Spock, as usual, is right about the situation. He is the captain, and he cannot allow himself to become caught up in emotions that will only bring him down and jeopardise his ability to make decisions. Spock stops briefly by his chair on the way out.

"If you have need of any other advice, I believe you know where you may find me. I will be meditating."

"Yes, thank you Spock."

Spock enters the turbolift and presses the button to go down a few floors. He enters his quarter's moments later and dims the lights automatically. He gazes about the room, taking note of the 3 dimensional chess game still waiting for him on his desk. Bending down, he opens a low cabinet and takes out a lamp. Setting it in the middle of the floor, he turns a knob on its side and watches as a flame flickers to life. He lowers himself to the floor and crosses his legs in the meditation position before closing his eyes.

The candlelight casts red shadows under his eyelids, and the light seems to seep into his very being as he empties his mind. First of the emotion he felt boiling beneath the surface of his skin throughout the day, that of anxiety, grief, and despair. For a moment his mind lingers over the feeling of friendship and camaraderie that has begun to surface whenever Jim Kirk is near. He does not push these particular feelings away, but marginalizes them and stores them away out of sight.

The heat in the room rises to an uncomfortable degree, even to him, and he breathes deeply of the incense being burned in front of him. It smells of a mixture of things, cinnamon and other spices, ones that he would associate with _her_. He does not allow himself to dwell on her for long, but instead focuses his attention on clearing his mind and attaining that floating feeling that one must achieve during meditation.

For some time he sits this way until he has lost track of how many minutes or hours have passed. His own physical needs seem trivial compared to the tantamount need to remain perfectly still for a moment longer. He does not know when the tingling in his fingers begins or when he begins to slip backward into the waiting arms of sleep.

_He is running, harder than he has ever run in his entire life. Each breath he takes rips through his body and threatens to tear his lungs in two. He cannot stop, not when so much is at stake. Behind him comes the ragged breathing of the Vulcan elders, and beside him is his mother matching each step he takes with her own. The trembling ground and roar of splitting rocks echoes in his ears as they round the corner and stumble into the sunlight, one after the other._

_Amanda loosens her grip on her son's arm and steps away from him, a look of utter shock and horror upon her face at the sight of such destruction. She stands absolutely still at the precipice as they wait to be beamed up, her heart fluttering much like her veil in the dusty wind._

_Spock watches his mother carefully, the terror he had felt moments earlier dissipating as he waits for them to be beamed up to safety. Suddenly, the ground shifts beneath him, and his mother turns her eyes to him. He meets them for a split second, drowning in their vastness for an eternity, before the earth crumbles away taking his mother with it._

_A cry rents his throat as he reaches for her as she falls away into the abyss. He follows after her, falling and falling into the maw of the beast . . ._

Spock sits up abruptly his breathing shallow and sharp. He swipes a hand across his sweaty brow as his eyes adjust to his surroundings. The lamp continues to burn, although the incense has been used up. He turns the knob with a shaking hand and pushes the lamp back into the cabinet. Shakily, he stands up, his legs feeling heavy and useless beneath him. Slowly, he makes his way to his bed where he lowers himself down. He does not close his eyes however, but stares out into empty space, his mother's face still floating before him always out of reach.


	12. Nightmares Revisited

**Authoress' Note: **Thanks to all the regulars who have reviewed. I read every single one, and they mean the world to me. Especially since this is my first real Star Trek fic. Getting these characters right is tough! By the way, I'm going on a mission trip with my church for the next 5 days; so don't expect any update for a while after that. This is a looong chapter though, so it should tide you over.

**Nightmares Revisited**

"Hailing frequencies are open, Captain," says the young man stationed at the communications station. He presses his earpiece in a bit more as he waits for a response.

Kirk grits his teeth and decides that there is way too much testosterone on his bridge. He'd give anything to have Uhura back right now. In fact, he wouldn't mind her sarcasm and snarky comments at all. If anything, he would welcome them. He turns in his chair, which to his delight swivels along with him, and nods at the man in acknowledgment.

"Thank you, Ensign . . ."

The young man, who can't be much younger than Kirk himself snaps to attention. "Ensign Nelson, Sir!" he exudes with excitement at finally being noticed after having spent several days at his station being ignored.

"Yes, yes, at ease, Nelson."

Kirk lifts his foot up and his chair swivels back around to face the view screen.

"This is Captain Kirk from the _USS Enterprise_. Is it safe for us to beam down?"

Static crackles in and out before going dead. Kirk takes a deep breath, preparing to raise his voice, "This is Captain Kirk-"

"I don't think anyone is there, Captain," Ensign Nelson pipes up. "All I'm getting is static and dead air. That doesn't sound like a problem with the comm system."

Kirk ignores the grating Ensign and turns toward Spock instead. "Status?"

Spock glances up from his station. "Ensign Nelson is correct, Captain. There is no malfunction in the communications system. Although sensors indicate that there is humanoid life on the planet."

"So, they're choosing not to respond," Kirk says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Spock moves to stand closer to the Captain. "Not necessarily, Sir. Perhaps they are unable to get to their communication system."

"Yes," Kirk drawls, staring beadily at the view screen where a small brown and blue planet floats in space before them. "Well then, let's not sit around guessing about what's going on down there. Spock, you and I will beam down and check things out. If it looks too big for the two of us to handle then we'll beam back up and get a larger landing party together. Let's get this over with. Sulu you have the con until I send Mr. Scott up here."

The two exit the bridge and take the turbolift down to the transporter room where Scotty is already waiting for them.

"Jus' the two of you, Cap'n?" he asks, handing them each a communicator and a phaser.

"For now, Scotty," Kirk replies, strapping all his equipment on, "You've got the con on the bridge. Keep communications open so we can keep you updated on what's going on down below."

"Aye, Sir, will do."

Kirk and Spock step onto the pad simultaneously.

"Energize," Spock says, and the familiar tingling sensation sets in on the two of them.

Seconds later, the pair find themselves in the middle of a neatly manicured garden surrounded by paved walkways on all sides. Not too far away, a monorail line, much like those used in the 21st century, cuts across the skyline of a magnificent city. The gardens and park around them stretch on for some distance before melting into the skyscrapers and towers beyond. On the opposite side, an outcropping of residential houses sit cloistered in groups of four to each block. The lawn they can see nearest to them is just as meticulously neat as the garden they are standing in now.

Something feels severely out of the place, Kirk thinks, as he takes in their surroundings with astonishment. The city feels much too quiet, and Kirk suddenly realises, upon closer inspection, that the gardens and lawns are not as perfect as he thought them to be. The grass has grown up tall in some places, and ivy has already begun to grow up the sides of a few dwellings. Kirk turns toward Spock for an explanation.

The young Vulcan almost looks just as surprised as he is. "It would seem," he says slowly, gazing around, "that it is uninhabited."

"Yes, but what happened to them?" Kirk asks, bending down to look at a few overgrown plants, "There isn't any record of them leaving or of a natural disaster occurring."

"They must be on the planet, Captain. My sensors indicated a large amount of humanoid life."

Kirk furrows his brow and takes out his communicator. Flipping it open, he says loudly and clearly, "_Enterprise_ come in. This is the Captain._ Enterprise _can you hear us?"

Static crackles over the airwaves, and Kirk snaps it shut with a sigh. "Does the tricorder indicate any kind of power source around here?"

"Negative, Captain. My tricorder has ceased all functions."

"What?"

Kirk takes the small black box from his companion and turns a few of the knobs. No sound comes out, and nothing flashes across its miniscule screen. He shakes it a few times, but to no avail. Looking at Spock again, he says, "Well, this is a fantastic way to start out our first mission. Both the Captain _and_ First Officer stranded together."

"I fail to see what is so 'fantastic' about this situation, Captain."

Kirk stifles a laugh. "It's called sarcasm, Spock. C'mon, let's at least take a look around this garden and that residential section over there."

---

Just as the sun, or whatever solar body the planet revolves around, is going down, Kirk and Spock make their way back to the garden in between the city and the residential district. Their exploration was fruitless, yielding no signs as to where the inhabitants of the planet could be and giving no clue as to where a power source could be located. The two trudge back into the garden as night falls around them.

Kirk gathers sticks and other brush for a fire, and then decides to test his phaser to see if it can spark a flame. The phaser clicks a few times, but nothing happens, and Kirk throws it aside with an exasperated noise. He takes two rocks then, and strikes them together until he can get a flame going, thankful all the while that he had been forced to take a wilderness survival course back at Starfleet. It was finally coming in handy.

Spock sits cross -legged about the blazing fire staring into its depths as though he were meditating. Kirk does so as well, until his eyes hurt, and he turns them away to look at the horizon as the last sliver of light slips underneath and out of sight. He shivers involuntarily and rubs his hands together for warmth.

Suddenly, there is a rustle in the tall grasses behind them. Spock hears it first as he lifts his head just slightly and turns his ear toward the sound. Kirk watches him intently thinking a thousand things at once. He notes to himself the ways he could fight off a man without his phaser and is again thankful for Spock and his Vulcan nerve pinch.

The rustling continues for several agonizing minutes. Kirk licks his lips and swallows hard, his dry throat scratchy. Then a figure appears, looming out of darkness. They cannot see the figures face, but the silhouette suggests it is a woman. Her hair is caught by a breeze, and the dress she is wearing ripples in the wind also.

"Spock . . ." she says, her voice no more than a sigh.

Spock draws his eyebrows together. He has heard that voice somewhere before, in a dream perhaps. He squints, trying to take in more of the mysterious figure. Kirk stands up and Spock follows suit, though the lone figure remains still.

"Show yourself!" Kirk cries, and Spock can hear the panic in his voice.

The silence stretches between them pulling at Kirk's taught nerves. He attempts to take a step forward, but Spock catches him with a tight grip around the arm. Kirk's heavy breathing echoes in his ears as he searches the darkness before him frantically, waiting. There is another rustle as the woman takes a step forward into the light. Kirk lets out an audible gasp as her features become clear.

"Mother?" Spock asks, lessening his grip on Kirk's arm. He steps forward, his eyes wide with shock. He puts out his hand slowly and makes to touch her outstretched hands, but Kirk throws his arm out to stop him.

"Spock! Don't do it! That can't be your mother! She's dead!"

Spock shakes his head, ignoring the Captain's words, and takes the woman's hands in his own. She smiles warmly at him and brings his hands to her lips, kissing them gently. She brushes her thumb against Spock's cheek, and Kirk realises that he is crying.

"Spock . . ." Kirk pleads, looking on helplessly. "This isn't right."

Suddenly, the ground begins to shake underneath them throwing them to their knees. Spock reaches instinctively for his mother's hand as they fall to the ground. Kirk stumbles to his hands and knees and finds himself face to face, not with the green grass of the garden, but with solid rock.

He stands up slowly, his mouth agape and utters one word, "Shit."

He runs a hand through his hair and turns to look at Spock, who is helping his mother up. Vulcan trembles beneath them again as rocks crumble around them. The earth groans beneath their feet, and before he can take in anything else about the situation they are pitched forward again.

When Kirk looks up he is surrounded by Vulcan elders standing stock still upon the rock outcropping. They stare up at the sky in unison as though waiting for something.

"We're ready to beam aboard, Captain," the Vulcan nearest to him says in a monotone that can barely be heard above the crashing debris.

Kirk whips around to find Spock and meets his own bewildered expression in Spock's eyes.

"Spock, what's going on?" he yells out over the noise.

"I don't know, Captain!"

Amanda Grayson makes her way to the edge of the precipice and glances down over its side. The ground shakes again, and Kirk knows exactly what is going to happen before it does. He reaches for Amanda as she begins to fall, because he knows Spock will not reach her in time. Already he can feel the tingling that comes along with beaming up and knows that he is much too late.

A despairing cry rips through the air behind him, and Amanda slips from sight, her fingertips barely brushing against his own. Everything goes dark then as the tingling sensation becomes stronger. Kirk cannot see as he hits solid earth again. The grass is cool and soft against his cheek, and he wishes that he did not have to open his eyes.

"Spock?" he whispers, clenching his eyes shut.

No one answers, and the muscles in his stomach clench. He opens his eyes slowly and carefully. The darkened garden comes into view again, and Kirk pushes himself up onto his hands and knees before sitting back on his feet. He looks around for Spock and sees him curled up on the grass a few feet away.

Cautiously, he makes his way toward his fallen friend careful to tread quietly. Spock's eyes are open, but unseeing, glazed over in pain and despair. His face is blank in the light from the planet's two moons overhead. Kirk crouches down and puts a hand on his shoulder. Spock twitches slightly and allows his Captain to help him to sit up. His hands shake uncontrollably, and he clasps them in front of himself to stop their trembling.

"Are you okay, Spock?" Kirk asks, his hand still on Spock's shoulder.

Spock turns his face toward the Captain. "I am sorry you had to witness such an emotional display, Captain."

Kirk frowns. "Don't apologise. I'd like to see even the hardiest Vulcan come out of that without some emotional repercussion. You didn't answer my question, by the way."

Spock hangs his head slightly, so that Kirk cannot see his face. When he speaks his voice is low and gravelly.

"We have just relived one of my worst nightmares. Normally I am able to meditate away any dreams I might have, though this one," he shudders and closes his eyes for a moment, "is one I think I will carry with me for the rest of my life."

"It wasn't your fault," Kirk responds quietly. He understands nightmares. There are some from his childhood that still follow him around today like shadows from a long forgotten time.

"I know, yet somehow I wish it were."

"So you could keep living in your self made purgatory?" Kirk says, a slice of bitterness clinging to the edge of his voice.

"Not a self made purgatory, Jim, just survivor's guilt."

Spock shrinks away, looking out into the darkness. Kirk can't let their conversation end in such a way though. He feels as though he needs to reassure his first officer that there are other things in life besides wallowing in guilt, which if he knew anything, he thought was a rather human emotion for Spock to have. He doesn't mention that though because he thinks it would only serve to point out the young Vulcan's failings even more.

"Your mother wouldn't want you going on like this, Spock," Kirk says, sitting down next to him in the grass. The Vulcan does not move away, but he does not speak either, and Kirk goes on, "She loved you very much, and even if that means nothing to you, at least you should know that."

"I never told her I loved her."

Spock's voice is quiet in the gloom, but Kirk hears him perfectly, and he thinks of his own mother left at home with Frank. He can't even remember the last time he had told her he loved her at all. Sharp guilt stings at his heart, and he rubs slightly at his chest as though that will make the pain go away.

"We all have our failings, Spock," Kirk finally says, choosing his words carefully. "You just can't let them get in the way. You're my first officer, and I need you. More than you probably realise."

Spock nods, perhaps not altogether convinced, but Kirk is satisfied. He claps his friend lightly on the shoulder, lies down on the grass again, and closes his eyes in sleep. Spock, meanwhile, remains upright, centimeters from the Captain, whose breathing is a peaceful constant in the darkness.


	13. Hidden Desires

**Authoress' Note:** Hellooo, anyone still here? I know I've been away for a while, but I've finally returned from my holiday in NYC, so expect to have some more regular updates. I'm going to attempt to finish this entire story up before I go to university at the beginning of September, but that seems sort of far-fetched and unlikely considering this story seems to be getting longer and longer. Anyway, I took the advice of a reviewer of the previous chapter and tried to go for a little more description. I hope I've done a little better. :)

**Hidden Desires**

"Captain? Jim?"

Kirk bolts up right and whips his head around wildly looking for any sign of danger. He meets Spock's gaze, with its singular eyebrow cocked upward. Settling back down with an inaudible sigh, he fixes his first officer with an unblinking star.

"Yes, Spock, what is it?"

"I have been thinking about a possible explanation to our . . . experience last night, and I have also formed a hypothesis concerning the situation we are in."

Kirk nods and gestures for his first officer to continue as he rolls his shoulders to get the crick out of his back. Spock ignores this display and moves onward.

"Firstly, the explanation. That is, I believe somehow our thoughts, desires, dreams, etc. are being projected into existence around us. We are experiencing them as real events. Secondly, the hypothesis: the exact same series of events will occur tonight. Perhaps not the exact ones. What ever it is that controls these things could use any of our thoughts or dreams."

"And what is it that controls these occurrences, Mr. Spock?"

Spock cocks his head slightly. "I do not know, Captain. It is impossible to make any sort of inference without my tricorder. I am sure, however, that there must be a power source somewhere that could possible be in charge of all of this."

"And you think we should go search for it?"

"I see no other alternative, Captain."

"Yes, all right then. Let's go."

Kirk stands up groaning slightly, his back and neck sore. He rubs at them absentmindedly, and falls in step next to Spock as they make their way toward the city this time. Kirk shades his eyes with his hand for a moment, and gazes at the buildings stretching away into the distance. It is going to be a long day.

The two trek through building after building and tower after tower searching for any kind of running mechanical device capable of creating hallucinations. There are 21st century style computers in most of the buildings, each one completely short-circuited and dead. In a building that could have passed as a school at one time, the two find a computer in a style that closely resembles their own century. It is large and boxlike, though not functioning, just like the others.

Having swept through half the city by nightfall Kirk decides that it would be best if they slept somewhere outside the garden in the hopes of deferring more hallucinations from appearing. They find an empty storehouse and settle down on the ground for the night.

Kirk shifts uncomfortably in his place on the ground as the sun sets through the windows. He shivers as a draft passes over them and rolls over to look at Spock who is propped up against some empty crates. His hands are clasped tightly in front of him as he surveys their surroundings with trepidation.

After some time Kirk finally falls asleep, but it is a fitful one full of darkness and Amanda Grayson's bright eyes and his hand slipping from her grasp. He pushes himself upright some hours later, trying to quiet his breathing and close his mind to the disturbing images in his head. Everything is pitch dark around him, though he can still make out Spock's face only feet from him. He leans up against the crates, shoulder to shoulder with his first officer. Spock glances at him momentarily.

"They are back, Captain," Spock whispers.

"They? Not you're mother?" Kirk asks, fear boiling up in his chest.

"No, not my mother. There are two others this time, just there, at the other end of the room." He points, leaning his head in close to Kirks so that he can see. Squinting, the Captain can just make out the shapes of two people this time, just as Spock had said.

"How long have they been here?" he asks, watching the shadows moving closer to them.

"Just a minute or so before you awoke," came the reply. Kirk's skin prickles, and he wishes the two beings would show themselves.

They glide closer, whispering to each other so that the two men huddled against the crates cannot understand. Kirk is sweating again, while his first officer remains calm. The dark silhouettes shift in the gloom. Suddenly, they move into the moonlight shining in through broken slats in the roof, and once again both Kirk and Spock are taken by surprise.

Lieutenant Uhura stands before them pressed against a perfect double of Captain Kirk. The same black dress and shoes Spock had last seen her in cling to her body, as she herself clings to a denim and leather-clad captain. The two press closer, and to Kirk's utter bewilderment, their lips meet in a passionate kiss. He looks away, ashamed, and catches a glimpse of Spock's face.

His jaw is set, and there is fire in his eyes. The Captain and Lieutenant entwined together fill his sight, and fill him with a sudden insatiable rage that courses through his veins akin to the fires of pon farr. The sadness despair he had felt earlier twists itself in his stomach into the solid desire to hurt James Kirk; to hurt him beyond repair.

Uhura breaks the kiss and hugs Kirk tighter. "Oh Jim, I don't know how I could have refused you before," she says in a breathy voice that sounds almost nothing like the Lieutenant's, "You're nothing like Spock. You know, he's so," she pauses for a moment as Kirk captures her lips again with his own, "He's so . . ."

"Logical? Unfeeling?" the hallucination Kirk suggests, running his hands up the young woman's back.

Uhura gives a high-pitched and very uncharacteristic giggle. "Exactly! I don't know how I could have ever thought I loved him."

She says this maliciously, looking Spock directly in the eye as it escapes from her mouth. Her eyes glint in the moonlight, and Kirk swallows down the urge to vomit. He can feel Spock tense next to him, and suddenly, the Vulcan lunges, grabbing him by the throat. Kirk splutters and knocks his head hard against the ground.

"Spock, stop –" he cries out, over the cackling of Uhura, "It's not me! It's not real!"

Spock's face is like a madman's, contorted into a look of pure loathing, a look that Kirk has only ever seen once before. He tries to pry the Vulcan's fingers from around his neck, but he is too strong. He gasps for air, and just as everything goes fuzzy and slips out of focus Kirk becomes aware that Spock has loosened his grip. Then he is falling into a dark abyss and everything goes black.

"Jim?"

Spock's voice echoes in Kirk's head, and he moans as he attempts to sit up. Boy does his head ache. He rubs at his forehead and opens his eyes blearily. Spock's face comes swimming into view looking very human from the way his eyebrows are drawn together. He helps Kirk to sit up and props the aching Captain against the crates again. It is already morning once again, a fact that causes Kirk much displeasure considering the suns rays are shining almost directly in his eyes. They water painfully, and he rubs at them again.

"Captain, you should have me reported for what I did to you last night," Spock says.

Jim Kirk waves a hand in his first officer's general direction and leans his head back against the empty crates. Spock's eyebrows do not draw apart from each other, and he continues to gaze at the Captain.

"I almost killed you."

"You were swept up in the moment," Kirk says through gritted teeth, wishing that he didn't have to have this conversation with Spock right at this moment when it feels as though something has exploded inside his skull.

"I was unsure as to whether it was true."

"True?" Kirk snaps his head toward Spock and winces at the sudden movement.

"I was unsure as to the extent of your relationship with the Lieutenant."

Kirk stares at Spock for a minute and then throws his head back and laughs. "Me and Uhura? Yeah right. I'd have to be the last man on Earth and even then . . ."

He trails off, still smiling, though Spock still looks concerned. Kirk leans his head back and looks up at the ceiling.

"Look, Spock, I like her all right. I'm attracted to her. But, she hates my guts, so you don't have to worry about us every getting together in any way. Ever. Understand?"

"Understood, Captain," Spock says, his voice giving away his relief rather than his facial expression. "You are my friend and my captain. I should not have doubted you."

Kirk shivers involuntarily at the similarity between the Spock sitting before him and his older counterpart. It had not been that long ago when he had said similar words to Kirk in the cave on Delta Vega. He squeezes Spock's shoulder and grins broadly. The universe finally seems to be righting itself again.


	14. City in the Dark

**Authoress' Note: **I hate to say this, but I'm not terribly happy with where this story is heading. I feel like it's being rushed, but every time I try to sit down and elaborate on each chapter I can't find anything to say. *sigh* I'm still going to continue, but I'm afraid that it won't be up to par with other fics I've written. Keep on trekkin' though. Perhaps things will start looking up again.

**City in the Dark**

Kirk came out of his reverie to find Spock still staring at him intently. Clearing his throat, he changes the subject. "Now then, back to these hallucinations. What are we gonna do about them, and how are we gonna get back to the _Enterprise_?"

"While you were still asleep, Captain, I took the liberty of searching the surrounding area. It would seem there is an old Earth style transportation system underneath the city. The entrance to one is just outside."

"Good thinking, Spock. We've seen almost everything above ground. It's about time we went below."

Standing up gingerly, Kirk pulls down the hem of his shirt, and wipes his hands on his trousers. Spock leads the way, slowly at first, because his captain is still stiff, but they finally make their way into the bright sunlight and around the corner where the entrance to "the underground", as Kirk vaguely remembers it being called, descends into the earth.

He grips the rail tightly and lowers himself one step carefully. An aching pain shoots up his legs, and he almost stumbles over himself. He motions for Spock to go first.

"My legs are still a bit sore. I think it'd be better if you scouted ahead. I'll get down soon enough."

Spock nods and descends the remaining steps into the darkness below. Kirk watches as his head disappears from sight and continues on his slow downward climb. Less than a minute later, Spock's voice echoes up to him, "There is a tunnel, Captain, but no one in sight so far."

"Good," Kirk calls back, "I'll be down in a few minutes."

Spock waits patiently, taking in his surroundings. Ahead are several turnstiles, most rusted over, though perhaps still usable. Beyond that a box like structure looms out of the darkness made of brick and glass. To the right a track has been laid into the ground, but there are no transportation apparatus' to be seen. Kirk thumps down next to Spock and takes a look around. He points at each object in turn.

"That would be the turnstiles right there, with the ticket booth just beyond. Over there are the tracks. I think they had something similar to the monorail on those tracks, but I'm not entirely sure. These things are almost from ancient history."

They make their way slowly in the gloom as the light streaming in from outside disappears behind them. The darker it gets the more apprehensive Kirk becomes. It is much easier to be ambushed when one cannot see.

"Captain, did you see that?" Spock asks sharply, his voice echoing slightly.

"See what?" Kirk asks, straining his eyes to see ahead.

"Just ahead there was a light. Watch."

Stock still, the two men stare toward the cavern in front of them hoping to see some glimpse of light.

"There it is again!"

Kirk sees it this time. It is a tiny pinprick in the vast darkness, and it goes out almost as quickly as it came on. The two proceed forward with caution, as the blinking light grows larger and larger. Just when they think they will surely run into it someone speaks.

"Who goes there?"

The light goes out, and Spock and Kirk freeze. Kirk straightens up, tense, and speaks, "I'm Captain James T. Kirk from the _USS Enterprise_. I am here with my first officer Mr. Spock. We do not intend to harm anyone."

Tense silence follows and then another entirely different voice is heard, "What's that they said? From the _Enterprise_? Have they come to help?" It is a woman's voice, frightened and trembling.

Before Kirk can answer he is nearly blinded by what seems to be a floodlight turning on overhead. It blazes down on him and causes everything to go white for a few seconds. Kirk shields his face as his eyes adjust.

"Captain, I believe you should open your eyes."

Kirk does so, slowly, and to his astonishment finds himself face to face with a crowd of pale, sallow skinned people. He stares at them, dumbfounded. There are men and women, some of whom hold children by the hand or have hoisted them on their hip. There are grey-haired elders also. The man nearest them is one. His thin hair is balding, and his face is so pale that he almost looks like a ghost. They are dressed in a rag tag of clothing that has been torn and patched over and over again.

"Please, please come this way. Quickly now."

The old man ushers Kirk and Spock into the throng of people making their way back into the tunnels. They push onward at a slow pace for some time until all of a sudden they round a corner and find themselves in a large open cavern that has obviously been hollowed out over many years. There are hundreds of other tunnels leading from the main cavern, and some of the people, families by the looks of it, walk off down the tunnels. The majority, however, stay in the cavern, surrounding Kirk and Spock and staring at them with wide pale eyes.

Kirk decides it's time to speak up since the leader of the group, the same elderly man who had led them all to the cavern, has not said anything since. The people stop their murmuring as soon as Kirk opens his mouth. "We are from the _USS Enterprise _from Earth. Our data on your planet told us that you were once Earth-dwellers but colonized this planet several centuries ago. We were told of, and have experienced, the hallucinations that come upon the city in the night. We would like to know what has happened and how we can help."

The elderly man steps forward then, taking Kirk's hand in his and shaking it briskly. "I am Latimer, the Chief Elder of my people. You are correct in your knowledge of the history of our world. Come, we have much to discuss."

Latimer takes the lead and steers the two men into a side room that is significantly smaller. It consists of a roughly hewn table and low seats carved from boulders. Kirk and Spock lower themselves into the chairs, and Latimer takes his place opposite them as many of the civilians file in around them.

"Do you normally conduct business with half the population around, Latimer?" Kirk asks, gazing around at the people crowding into the room.

"This is a democracy, is it not? A government of the people. Therefore, the people must be present," Latimer states, gesturing at the men and women behind him.

"Fascinating," Spock says so that only Kirk can hear.

"Now, then," Kirk begins, business-like again, "What's the trouble with these hallucinations? You've got a perfect city up there waiting to be used, yet you're all hovelling down here in the darkness."

Latimer's smile slips off his face, and he clasps his hands in front of him sadly. "Our first founders invented a computer that could produce any dream or fantasy that any one of our people could ever come up with. They believed that by giving the impossible to the people every one would be happy. Unfortunately, it did not work out as planned. Something went wrong. Hallucinations of our dreams came out as nightmares instead and terrorized the people to the point of insanity. We escaped underground as it is the only place the computers power cannot touch us. Here we may live in peace."

Kirk's face lights up. Now that they knew what they were looking for this was going to be all too easy. "It's definitely a computer causing all of this then?"

Latimer nods again.

"Do you know where we can find it? If you don't mind, we'd like to destroy it so that your people will be able to live up on the surface once more."

Latimer brightens slightly, and then looks uncomfortable again. "We'd be very grateful to you if you could do away with the computer, but the problem is, none of us know where it is housed. We have lived so long underground that all those who once knew of its whereabouts have long since died. I'm sorry."

"You do not have any records or blueprints of the city?" Spock asks, as though that were the most obvious solution to their problems.

Latimer shakes his head sadly again, and Kirk slumps back in his chair, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose we'll just have to continue our search of the city. We did leave the other half unexplored, Spock."

The Vulcan nods and makes to stand up. Latimer stands up faster though and waves at them to take their seats again.

"You can't go now!" he cries, a wildness in his eyes, "You could be caught outside again while it is night. You must stay here and rest and begin your search again tomorrow."

Kirk shrugs. "All right then. You wouldn't happen to have a guide who could come with us tomorrow, do you?"

"No, no, of course not. None of us have been to the surface in a centuries."

Kirk blinks a few times at the old man, still comprehending his words, while Spock utters the only word that seems appropriate for such a situation:

"Fascinating."


	15. Apocalypse and Rebirth

**Authoress' Note: **Thanks so much for everyone who injected a bit of encouragement into their last review. :) I really needed that, and it was very much appreciated. I've been working on some later chapters, and they're some of my favourites that I've written so far, so I can't wait to share them with you. Till then, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and keep those reviews coming!

**Apocalypse and Rebirth**

"Good morning, Spock," Kirk says jovially as he exits his room for the night looking more refreshed than he had in days. "How did you sleep?"

"I did not sleep, Captain. Vulcans do not need as much rest as Humans."

"Ah," came Kirk's reply as they fall in step next to each other making their way toward the main cavern's entrance where they will be seen off by Latimer and his people. "What did you do then?"

"I pondered something, Captain, that I found most intriguing. It is about Humans."

"Yes . . ."

"It is most interesting to me that these people find mere hallucinations that cannot hurt them so terrifying. In fact, their fear has debilitated them so much that they will not venture to the surface anymore. It is most illogical."

"Most illogical to fear seeing hallucinations of a lost lover or a mother's death?" Kirk says quietly so that passersby will not hear him.

Spock glances at his captain, one eyebrow raised. "Indeed, you have a point. I understand what you are alluding to, Captain."

The two stop at the entrance to the cavern and wait patiently, in silence, for Latimer to arrive. He does so not too long after, wearing a flowing robe that does not quite befit their surroundings. A small crowd has gathered behind him craning their necks this way and that to better see their saviours.

"Good luck to you, Captain," Latimer says, giving Kirk a small bow, "And to you Mr. Spock. If the computer is not destroyed by nightfall we shall expect you back here without further ado."

"Thank you for your hospitality," Kirk says, shaking the old man's hand, "We hope we won't have to intrude on it much longer."

Latimer shakes his head back and forth like an old grey elephant shaking away a fly. "No, it's not a bother at all. We are the ones who should be thankful."

With that, he waves the pair out, and the entire crowd follows along behind them for some time until they reach approximately the same place in which they were found the day before. From then on, they move forward alone and in silence. Emerging into the light again feels, to Kirk, like being born again. He blinks rapidly in the sunlight, shielding his eyes from the brightness. Spock, however, seems unfazed.

When Kirk's eyes have adjusted, he looks as his companion and is startled to find his eyes clouded over.

"Spock, your eyes. What's up with them?"

Spock blinks once, and they resume their normal colouring. "Sorry Captain," he says, "I should have warned you about the inner eyelid that Vulcans possess. It is most helpful in weather conditions such as this one. I did not mean to alarm you."

"No, no, I wasn't alarmed," Jim Kirk says, still staring at his first officer's eyes uneasily, "You just caught me off guard."

The two pass the building they had slept in two nights before and make their way toward what they believe to be the heart of the city. After some time a very old and worn looking building, built in a style harkening back to ancient Rome, appears before them amongst the steel tombs of skyscrapers. Kirk glances at Spock, and he follows his Captain toward the building.

There is no need for them to speak what is already obvious about this building. It is very old, much older than the buildings around it; therefore it must logically house the computer that Latimer spoke of. They enter through the front doors, which creak with age. The corridors are dark, but the two companions proceed forward through the next set of double doors without any hesitancy.

Upon entering the doors, they find themselves in a smaller hall with what might have been a reception desk in the center. In many ways the halls shape and appearance are nearly the same as the main cavern in the underground city. Half a dozen corridors branch off from the main hall, leading off into darkness. Spock takes out his tricorder to see if he can identify a power source within the building.

His tricorder remains inoperable however, and he places it back at his side with a low sigh. Kirk rubs his hands together, pacing the room, and looking at each corridor in turn. Then he turns to the oval desk. Bending down, he blows the dust away from the drawer handles and slides one open carefully. Stacks of crumbling paper sit inside. He attempts to pick one piece up off the top of the stack, but an entire chunk breaks cleanly away. With just the slightest touch of Kirk's fingers against the parchment, it crumbles into dust.

"Spock, help me. There must be some kind of guide to this place in here. Emergency exit plans . . . that kind of thing. They used to be really big on that kind of stuff back then."

Spock kneels down on the other side of the desk and opens the drawers there, which are again filled to the brim with stacks of papers, none of which seem to have been organized at all. They take out the stacks one by one, but do not bother reading them because the letters have faded too much over the years to be legible.

Spock finishes with his drawer faster than the Captain and moves onto the next without another word. When all the drawers have been emptied and all the papers identified as not being building blueprints or emergency exit plans, Kirk sits back on his feet poised in thought. He moves the desk chair out of the way then and feels around underneath the desk. His hand hits something that feels like paper, and he is surprised that it does not crumble away as soon as he touches it. In fact, he's not sure it feels like paper at all. It has the shape of paper, but it feels too smooth and glossy to actually be the real thing.

Carefully, he peels it from underneath the desk and finds, again to his surprise that it comes away easily. When he brings it out into the light he nods, understanding the thing he holds in his hands.

"That looks to be made of plastic, Captain," Spock says, running a hand along the rectangular shaped map in Kirk's hands.

The Captain nods. "It's called lamination, Spock," he says, "It was once very popular on Earth. They used it to preserve documents from water damage. I can see why they decided to save this one. It's exactly what we're looking for, a map of this building."

He turns and points at two corridors to the far left and right. "Those lead to what look like labs or work rooms." He turns and points to the two corridors behind them. "Those two lead seem to lead to the same place. There is a large room beyond them labeled 'Controls'."

Leading the way, with the map in hand, Kirk makes his way down the darkened corridor, trailing his free hand along the wall so as not to bump into it. They do not have to go very far in the darkness before a pinprick of light looms from ahead. Kirk quickens his pace, and the two stumble out into a room that is lit by natural light streaming through windows placed at the top of the walls.

There is only one object in the room however. It is box like and large with knobs and lights of every colour. A desk chair sits in front of it, vacated for centuries, but still the computer continues to whir and beep in the silence of the room. Kirk takes a step forward cautiously, and the sounds stop.

Kirk glances at Spock, whose eyebrow is raised, clears his throat, and speaks, "I am Captain James T. Kirk of the _USS Enterprise_, and I have here with me my Science Officer Mr. Spock."

The whirring noise from moments earlier begins again. "I am computer A-725, created by Doctor Matthew Rivier on Stardate 74008.9."

"Fascinating," Spock says, circling around to look at the computer's control panel, "This is a mid 21st century era computer. I do not understand how it could still work after all these years."

"What is your directive?" Kirk asks his brow furrowed in equal puzzlement.

"A-725's prime directive as instated by Doctor Matthew Rivier on Stardate 74008.9 is to provide happiness and pleasure to the inhabitants of Caldos IV by enacting their dreams and desires."

Spock pauses, his hands hovering above the control panel, before moving back. He clasps his hands behind his back waiting for Kirk's direction.

"Captain, I could easily override the programme Dr. Rivier has set. It would only take a moment."

"Yes, of course," Kirk says, unsure of whether the computer can understand them when it is not directly addressed, "By all means, I'd like to go home soon."

Spock sets to work, his fingers flying over the panel. For some matter of minutes Kirk watches him in complete silence. Spock straightens then, staring at the control panel intensely, his brows knit together.

"There is some sort of block on the system," Spock says finally, "I cannot override the programme. This is a most illogical inconvenience."

"Computer," Kirk says, feeling slightly useless and out of place talking to a computer, however it does whir in response. "You have violated your directive."

"I have made my people happy. They are satisfied with my performance."

Kirk mouths "my people" at Spock, who nods. "No, you have scared them away. Have you not noticed they are not living in the city anymore? They are afraid of you and the things you show them. You are not making them happy. You have violated your directive."

The computer seems to whir angrily and then everything stops just as quickly as it began. Kirk stares, wide eyed, and Spock moves toward the control panel again.

"It's dead, Jim," he says.

Suddenly, the ground shakes beneath them just as it had on Vulcan, and the building around them trembles as though in an earthquake. Kirk motions for Spock to follow and the two run back through the corridors as the city around them trembles and quakes. They throw themselves out into the blinding sunlight and are pitched forward as though a rug has been pulled out from under their feet.

Around them the city has taken on the look of an apocalypse as the buildings cave in on one another, falling in all directions. Dust and debris clog the air. Kirk cannot see. He waves his arms blindly in all directions calling out Spock's name. All around him are the crashing and renting of steel, and he is afraid that at any moment a building will fall upon him.

Suddenly, someone grabs his arm, and he stumbles forward recognizing Spock's firm grip in an instant. They come to the edge of the stairs at the old style underground station, and Spock leads him as quickly as they can go down the steps. When they arrive at the bottom they continue moving until the entrance is out of sight. Kirk staggers to a halt and coughs hard, dust tickling the back of his throat and stinging his eyes. He swipes his hand across his dry lips and tries to smile, but it is painful.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that to happen," he says, trying to make light of the situation. There is no response. "Spock?"

"I am here, Captain."

Jim Kirk moves closer to the Vulcan's voice, which sounds weak and vulnerable in the darkness. When his eyes have adjusted he is able to see Spock crouched against the rough stonewall his hand pressed against his side. His face is a mask against the pain that he obviously feels. Kirk kneels next to his friend and pulls his hand away his eyes widening at the sight of the dark green blood staining his shirt and hands.

"What happened?" Kirk asks, his voice hoarse.

"Debris, Captain. Glass or steel, I do not know which. There is little time to explain. I will wait here while you meet with Latimer. Check our communications. We should be able to beam up soon."

"I can't just leave you here, Spock!" Kirk says, flipping open his communicator. "I'm beaming you up right now. Bones will have my head if he finds out I dragged around a seriously injured person down here."

Spock bows his head to hide a grimace of pain. "Very well, Captain."

Kirk stands up bringing the communicator close to his mouth. "This is the Captain. Scotty, are you there?"

"Cap'n! We were beginning to worry! What's happened?"

Kirk thinks for a moment that the Scotsman's voice has never been so lovely to his ears before now. "We've had a bit of trouble, but everything is going to be fine now. Mr. Spock needs to be beamed up. He's been injured. Have Dr. McCoy meet him in the transporter room. Kirk out."

When he turns around again, Spock is already disappearing from view. Kirk starts off toward the cavern beyond. The walk seems much longer without the young Vulcan by his side, and he is grateful to finally arrive. Latimer is there to greet him, his face clouded with worry.

"Where is your companion? What has happened? We have been experiencing what seem to be earthquakes!" he cries.

"I can't explain everything right now, but the computer has been destroyed. Unfortunately, the city has been destroyed as well. You will have to start anew. Starfleet will be very happy to send help if you feel that you need it."

Latimer's worried visage slips away, and he smiles broadly. "Oh, thank you, Captain!" he cries, and already he begins to gather his people around making plans for their journey to the surface.

Hours later, when the entire underground city's populace has been extricated from their old home Kirk decides that it is time for him to leave and check up on his first officer. Already the people, thousands of them, have begun a mass clean up of the city's rubble. Intending to use what was left to build their new city. Latimer oversees it all with great excitement and enthusiasm. It doesn't always happen that one self gets to oversee the rebuilding of an entire world. Although, Kirk thinks to himself, he and Spock have had enough of that already.


	16. Difficulties and Miscommunications

**Authoress' Note:** This is my favourite chapter so far just for the fact that I like Nurse Chapel, and this was a fun chapter to write. It's short and hopefully provides a bit of humour in an otherwise angsty story. Thanks for the kind reviews! They truly keep my muse and I going at times.

**Difficulties and Miscommunications**

The first thing Captain James T. Kirk does after he beams back up to the _Enterprise_ and has set them on a course for Earth is see his first officer in sickbay. Dr. McCoy meets him just outside the door with a bemused expression on his face. This greeting surprises Kirk, as Bones is usually extremely agitated after spending too much time with his Vulcan commander.

"How is he, Bones?" Kirk asks casually, not wanting to sound too worried about a simple stab wound, which he's sure his friend can mend in an instant.

McCoy shakes his head, exasperated. "He's gonna be fine, Jim. Don't worry. Sure, he lost a lot of blood, but we were able to stitch him up all right. He did one of those trance things that Vulcans do when they need to heal themselves. He's awake now, unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?"

"He's a God-awful patient, Jim. You tell him to lie still and rest so that he doesn't screw up any of the work we've done with putting him back together, and what does he do?"

McCoy pauses for dramatic effect before continuing, "He tells me that as long as you aren't here he is acting captain and must therefore resume his duties. Nurse Chapel had to hypo him _four_ times in the last few hours!"

"Okay, okay," Kirk says, his hands up in front of him to stop McCoy's onslaught of complaints, "I'll talk to him. How long will he need to be in sickbay?"

"Oh, I'd say at least another twenty-four hours should do the trick. At any rate, it will be punishment enough for giving me hell while you were gone."

The sickbay doors slide open, and McCoy and the Captain step inside. Spock is sitting up and glances up at them upon their arrival. In a chair positioned next to his bed is Nurse Christine Chapel tapping a hypo against her leg.

"Your Nurse is most persistent, Doctor," Spock comments, "She does not fail to threaten me with your orders if I do not sit quietly enough according to her judgment."

"I knew you were something special when you got here, Nurse," McCoy says, grinning.

The young woman returns the smile and gathers up the hypo and some other items left on a tray next to Spock's bed.

"Thank you, Doctor," she says courteously and exits the room.

The three men stare after her, and as soon as the doors whoosh shut after her Kirk makes a low whistling sound and raises his eyebrows at the doctor.

"She's a fine catch, Bones," he says, knocking his friend in the shoulder with his fist.

McCoy scowls at him, picks up his PADD and begins to read Spock's charts.

"Aww, what's the matter Bones? C'mon, I didn't mean anything by it," Kirk says, looking utterly defeated by the events of the day and his friend's attitude.

"I believe, Captain," begins Spock, "that the Doctor is upset by the fact that Nurse Chapel is already engaged to a Doctor Korby."

"Damn it, Spock," McCoy says, gritting his teeth, but keeping his eyes on the charts, "Why can you never mind your own business?"

"It is my nature, Doctor," the Vulcan says with the smallest hint of a shrug.

Kirk pats McCoy on the shoulder. "Better luck next time, Bones. Sorry about that. That's really disappointing."

"Oh, shut up, Jim. You just wanted a piece of her for yourself."

McCoy says this seriously enough, but he and Jim know it to be true, and they burst out in a fit of laughter that causes Spock to slide down under his covers, pull them up to his chin, and close his eyes.

"He's gone into that trance thing again," McCoy gasps, as Kirk grasps the stitch in his side.

"I think it's safe for me to mention that Spock was trying to get something out of the Nurse also," McCoy says in a conspiratorial whisper.

Kirk leans in closer so he can hear his friend.

"They were deep in conversation about who knows what when I left, and they've been talking non-stop since. It's a downright shame she's engaged. I would've liked Spock to fall for her."

Before Kirk can say anything the door opens and Christine Chapel walks back into the room. She eyes the two of them warily and beams at them with that ambiguous smile that says I-know-what-you're-up-to. The two men can't help smiling back, completely caught up in the spell that is Christine.

"You know Doctor, Mr. Spock informed me of the most interesting thing today," she says conversationally, while making up one of the beds in the corner.

"What's that, Nurse?"

"Well, he said that when Vulcan's are in a healing trance they can still hear everything that's going on around them. Isn't that fascinating?"

Kirk looks at McCoy with wide eyes, and the two burst into laughter again as the Nurse exits the room looking thoroughly confused.


	17. Moving in Opposite Directions

**Authoress' Note: ** Sorry for taking so long to update. For those who were asking, this chapter is a bit longer, and I apologise for the last chapter being a bit short. It's hard to know sometimes where to cut these chapters off. Anyway, we've finally come to an interesting shift in the story that hearkens back to TOS, so I hope you enjoy what I have in store.

**Moving in Opposite Directions**

The _Enterprise's_ arrival back at Starfleet is unmarked and seemingly under-appreciated. After landing in San Francisco via shuttlecraft Captain James Kirk and his crew of roughly four hundred men and women meet once again with one of Starfleet's senior officers. The meeting reviews the situation found on Caldos IV, the actions that were taken, and the end results. Kirk is praised for his ingenuity and ability to keep his head in difficult situations, although he states humbly that it was his crew who kept their heads when they weren't receiving any contact from their captain down below.

"Overall, a successful first mission. I will now turn all of you over to be briefed by Admiral Pike."

The entire crew perks up at the mention of such a familiar and deeply admired man. Kirk waits on tenterhooks as the officer gathers up his PADD and other belongings before exiting the room. Hardly a second passes before Admiral Christopher Pike enters, walking on his own two feet once again. Kirk stands up and offers forth his hand, which Pike shakes enthusiastically, a smile on his face.

"I didn't think we'd be seeing you so soon, Admiral!" he says, lowering himself back into his chair.

Pike nods at Kirk and the crew in turn. "It didn't take me long to recover. Physical therapy nowadays is highly efficient when you put your mind to it. As such, I am here to ask a special favour of you, Captain."

"You name it, Sir."

"It is in Starfleet Commands interest to send the _Enterprise_ on a deep space mission to visit Talos IV and other planets in its system. They have asked me to lead the expedition, and I said I would only go if I had your permission," Pike smiles at Kirk kindly, waiting for an answer.

The smiles slides off Kirk's face as he forces himself not to frown at this sudden change in events. He had hoped that he would be the one to lead such a mission, but it seems that Starfleet had other ideas in mind that he didn't know about.

"Just one last mission for an old man like me?" Pike asks, the tone of his voice suggesting that he will respect Kirk's decision either way.

Kirk is relieved. For a moment he thought he was going to be forced out of his position as captain of the _Enterprise_, but now he understands that Pike only wants one more chance to serve aboard the ship he originally commanded. Kirk owes him that much at least. The young captain nods in concession.

"Go for it, Admiral," he says, and Pike beams.

"Don't worry, Kirk," he says, "I'll bring her back in one piece for you. She'll have to be ship shape if you want to take her out into deep space when I get back."

Kirk nods, a tangled mass of sadness twisting in his stomach. He swallows hard, happy with his decision, but also saddened that it will be some time before he sees his beloved ship again. For the first time since he left Iowa, James Kirk feels homesick. Starfleet has never really been his home, but the _Enterprise_ is. He has always known that she will be there when ever he needs her to be. But now, he won't see her for some time. Already he misses the captain's chair and his familiar sleeping quarters.

Admiral Pike speaks again to wrap up the meeting. "If anyone is interested in becoming part of the crew for the mission to Talos IV please see me after the meeting. I'm looking for a science officer, as well as some security and tactical personnel. We will depart within the next three days, so rest up. This isn't going to be an easy trip."

The briefing concluded, the majority of the crew files out of the room to go back to their residencies, visit family, or see about getting other assignments. Only a few members of the crew linger behind to speak with Admiral Pike. Nurse Chapel is one of them standing at the end of the line.

Kirk looks around for Spock, and just as he is about to ask Bones if he's seen him, McCoy points. The two stare, wide eyed and mouths open, at the young Vulcan talking with Admiral Pike. When he finishes, he glances at the two humans and continues on his way. The two men look at each other, and then launch themselves after him. They catch up quickly, flanking Spock on either side.

"What the hell are you doing?" Kirk says, gesticulating wildly.

"Admiral Pike expressed the need for a science officer, and considering we will not be going on any missions ourselves any time soon I thought my time would best be served under his command."

"Spock . . ." Kirk begins, but the Vulcan raises a hand to silence him.

"I have already submitted my candidacy, and he has accepted. I depart in 3 days."

"Damn it, Spock, now what am I supposed to do?" Kirk says grumpily.

"What do you mean, Captain?"

"I mean, now I don't have a science officer or first officer."

"I was not under the impression that you had released me from my duties, Captain. If you wish to find another first officer and science officer I will be understanding."

Kirk stares at Spock for a minute, dumbfounded, and then shakes his head.

"No, no, I merely meant that I thought you wouldn't want to serve under me anymore."

"That would be illogical, Jim. What would prevent me from doing so?"

Kirk shrugs, but grins anyway; pleased with himself at how his first officer reacted to his question. He puts his arms around the Doctor and the Vulcan's shoulders, much to Spock's annoyance, as they walk out over the campus bathed in sunlight.

"What will you and the Doctor do in my absence, Captain?" Spock says, discreetly shrugging Kirk's arm from around him. He doesn't even notice.

"Well," he drawls, squeezing McCoy's shoulder, "I thought Bones and I could take a trip to Iowa to see my mother. I haven't heard from her in ages, and I think it's about time I owe her a visit. What do ya say, Bones?"

McCoy shrugs his shoulders. "It's either that or fight the ex-wife to see my daughter for a couple of hours."

He holds out his hands, weighing the options, and nods at Kirk. "Yeah, I'll tag along. Besides I've always wanted to meet the mother of the infamous Jim Kirk."

"I'm flattered, Bones, really," Kirk says, and McCoy's eyebrow shoots into the air and is almost lost in his hair.

---

"There he goes."

McCoy and Kirk watch as Spock's shuttlecraft taking him back up to the _Enterprise_ shoots into the air and out of sight. They have already changed from their regulation clothes and are ready to catch the next shuttlecraft to River City, Iowa. As the shuttlecraft carrying the young Vulcan away becomes a mere white speck in the sky, Kirk picks up the two pieces of luggage and begins walking away.

He turns a few seconds later, realising that the Doctor isn't following him. McCoy is still staring up at the sky, his shoulders slumped, and one hand shielding his eyes from the sun. He lowers his hand and looks at Kirk who gives him a look that says what's-up-with-you? McCoy sighs and trudges over toward Kirk. He takes his luggage from Jim and slings it up and over his shoulder. They continue to walk in silence for a minute before McCoy suddenly bursts out "Damn it! Why do I feel so empty without that green-blooded hobgoblin trailing after us?"

Jim pats his friend's shoulder and gives him a sympathetic look that only makes Bones scowl, as he lifts his luggage higher on his shoulder.

"Have you fallen under our dear Spock's mysterious Vulcan spell also, my friend?" Kirk asks as seriously as he can while attempting to stifle a laugh.

"Jesus Christ, I hope not."


	18. Resuming Normalcy

**Authoress' Note: **Sorry if this vignette seems a bit rushed and poorly written. It really isn't one of my best grammar/spelling wise. My life is absolutely hectic and insane right now, and I'm surprised I even found time to get this thing churned out. I'm hoping to have at least one more out this weekend. Thanks so much for not giving up on me yet! EDIT: I totally would have had this up about 3 days ago if the document manager upload thing hadn't been so finicky. God, I hate technology sometimes.

**Resuming Normalcy**

Sulu loves being at the helm. He doesn't care whether he's flying the _Enterprise_, a shuttlecraft, or a dingy old junk ship, because he loves every moment of it. He knew from the minute he boarded a shuttlecraft from his parent's home city in what was then Japan he wanted to learn how to fly shuttlecrafts, planes, anything!

His father, who had always had a dream of flying but had never had the chance, stood behind his son as he soaked up all of the knowledge of flying and flight that he could. His mother, however, thought it was downright dangerous, and didn't understand why her son just wouldn't settle for being a doctor or a lawyer. At least with those kinds of careers she knew her son would come home from work alive every day.

Hikaru Sulu doesn't mind the risk though. The pleasure he receives at sitting right up at the front of the ship, feeling the smooth controls underneath his hands is indescribable. He has each and every one of them memorised and could execute any manoeuvre in his sleep if he needed to. When he was assigned to the _Enterprise_ during Nero's attack he couldn't help sending up a prayer of thanks to whatever gods were listening.

The intense and almost nauseating feeling that flying induces is like a drug to Sulu. He can't get enough of it, and his whole life seems to revolve around it. Maybe that's why he's never settled down as his mother continually suggests. Where's the adventure in that? Where's the excitement? Sulu voices this opinion to his comrade, Chekov after the meeting with Admiral Pike.

Chekov shrugs and says he thinks he's had enough adventure for a lifetime, and although Sulu hesitantly agrees, he still can't put down the feeling growing in his chest. It is an air filled balloon expanding, making him feeling lighter than air. He cannot wait to get a new commission. There will be all sorts of new crafts to test out and fly.

His friend doesn't seem so excited. Instead Chekov looks forlorn and serious about the idea of serving as navigator on other starships or crafts. In all honesty, the idea makes him feel uncomfortable, but he doesn't tell Sulu this. You see, he knows everyone on the _Enterprise,_ after a fashion. No one made fun of him there. Sure, they sometimes called him "kid", but they all had a respect for him and what he could do that he had never experienced anywhere else.

He was apprehensive about joining a new crew or working under someone who did not know him. He was only a teenager in the midst of adults, and as it was, it took a lot of time to gain other people's trust and respect. He isn't entirely sure if he's ready to do that all over again.

Maybe his mother had been right. She had always said that he would have a hard time fitting in. She had never said so to be cruel, but because it was a fact. Chekov always had trouble fitting in. Thus, he had always been alone. With no siblings to play with and his father gone most of the time he had learned to entertain himself in the only way he knew how; through mathematics and sciences.

Chekov had not admitted to Sulu that he was his only friend. The thought of being separated from him made the Russian boy feel more alone than ever. There was only one place he could go until Kirk became Captain of the _Enterprise_ once more, and that was home.

"Sulu?" Chekov asks sheepishly as they wait outside the commissions' office.

"Huh? You've been quiet," the young Asian replies, cuffing his friend on the shoulder good-naturedly.

"Sulu, I don't zink I'm going to stay vith Starfleet. I zink I'm going back to Russia for a vhile. To ze my family . . ."

Sulu looks taken aback for a moment. "Don't go yet, Chekov. Come fly with me, and then go back to Russia. Surely your mother can wait a little longer to see you."

The Russian shrugs. "I guess so, but I don't zink I can stay. It's hard to explain."

Sulu understands as usual though. He puts his hand on the young Russian's shoulder and looks him in the eye like an equal; like a friend.

"You do whatever you want to. I'll still be here when you get back. Go back to Russia and find a nice girl to give your heart to. Hell, marry her if you want, and then come back. The _Enterprise_ should be waiting."

Chekov nods, grateful for his understanding and encouraging friend. He can always count on Sulu not to ask questions or throw himself into other people's business.

"I don't know about getting married," he says quietly, but with a gleam in his eye, "I am only sewenteen after all."

The two laugh, and then stand in comfortable silence for some time. Finally Sulu is summoned into the office, Chekov meanwhile bids him good luck, and promises to meet him afterward.

---

Later that evening they meet in a quiet campus library to discuss their plans for the future. Sulu harps for most of the conversation about his job shuttling crews up to the starships at space dock. He recounts the meeting between himself and the commissioner with a look of pure glee and excitement on his face. Chekov can't be happier for him. It will be a busy but rewarding job for his friend.

When asked about what he will do Chekov decides that he will first see his mother and hopefully have a much-needed talk with his father. Then he'll go to Moscow and continue his studies at the academy there. He notes with a hint of pride that they will surely want to know about how he managed to beam Sulu and the Captain aboard the _Enterprise_ while they were in free fall.

It is only 3 days later when the two part ways. Sulu waves good-bye to his Russian friend at the space terminal and promises to send him regular updates on what he's up to. Chekov promises to do likewise, but says that his notes will probably be far less entertaining than that of his friend. Sulu shrugs.

"Take care of yourself," he says, giving him a small salute.

The young Russian salutes back and shoulders his bags, "Stay safe."

They turn from each other and walk in opposite directions; Sulu back towards Starfleet and Chekov toward the shuttlecraft that will take him home. The journey is a long one for the latter, and he sleeps peacefully most of the way, something he has not been able to do for some time. He sends a message to his mother a few hours before his arrival, and she is ecstatic that he will be coming home.

When he exits the shuttlecraft, still drowsy and aching all over, he is immediately enveloped in a hug. Dropping his bags at his feet, he immediately embraces his mother back. He does not mind when she strokes his hair and his back as though her were a little boy again, and especially not when she begins to cry and mutter things about how much older he looks and how proud she is of him. Meanwhile, he cannot think of anything to say to her. He is only happy to finally be home, to be safe.

On the other side of the planet, Sulu is taking his first set of crew up to space dock. He buckles himself in, checks the gauges and knobs around him, and looks back at the crew seated behind him. Most are green cadets looking for their first piece of action. They look around excitedly, chattering to one another and pointing to things out of the window.

There are some veterans in their midst however, and these are not just men and women who have been to space many times. Some he recognizes from the _Enterprise_ as members of the crew who helped in the fight against Nero. These particular crewmembers look tired as they gaze out of the windows or stare off into space dejectedly.

Sulu speaks over the intercom system. "Sixty seconds to take off. Please make sure you have your harnesses fastened and all of your personal belongings are stowed in the overhead compartment. This shuttle is going to space dock 4. All crew should be boarding the _USS Constellation_."

He is silent for a moment, his mic crackling, as he waits to see if any of the cadets realise they're on the wrong flight out. No one says anything, and so Sulu sets to work readying for take off. He watches the countdown with bated breath and as the counter finally reaches zero they are off, up into the air, flying.


	19. A Name in the History Books

**A Name in the History Books**

"_Get down, Keenser!"_

"_Those are not monkey bars!"_

"_Don't play on there, you'll break somethin'!"_

Scotty slumps into a chair and puts his head in his hands, rubbing at his temples to alleviate the headache that is beginning to pound. He runs a hand over his hair and looks up at the sound of shuffling feet. His small green companion scuffles out from behind a stack of Starfleet record tapes. Keenser looks up at him with those beady black eyes and whimpers slightly in apology.

Scotty smiles reluctantly and motions toward his friend. The alien immediately takes the moment to wrap himself around Scotty's leg in a tight hug. He chirrups happily, like a grasshopper, as a cat would purr when it is happy.

"Ah right, tha's enough of that. I'm still not happy with you, ya know? I'm tryin' to take this work seriously. I can't have you runnin' around and causin' trouble. Understand?"

Keenser nods and pushes his goggles back over his eyes. Scott claps his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"There now, tha's the spirit! We've got only a few more days to prepare this presentation on transwarp beaming. I'm not sure I fully understand it myself, to be completely honest. I wish I'd asked Mr. Spock for more explanation. Not that I cannae figure it out myself of course."

Keenser snickers, and Scotty cuffs him lightly in the head before setting back to work. He starts with the idea that in transwarp beaming space is the thing that's moving, not the ship, and works backward on the theory and subsequent equations from there. It is an amazing process to him to work on something he already came up with in another timeline. For a moment it feels like cheating, but then he reminds himself that he was the one who came up with the theory in the first place, and common sense dictates that you cannot steal from yourself.

Even as his work on the transwarp beaming theory comes to an end, he suddenly finds himself coming up with other theories and ideas that branch from this one. Can he beam people from two different places onto a moving ship? Can he beam someone from one moving ship to another? What about time travel as opposed to space travel?

He tosses around ideas and throws out the idea about time travel telling himself that it's already been done before. Sure, he might be able to discover a new way to go about it, but compared to transporting it doesn't seem that important to him. He's already seen the dangers that time travel can impose. Nero taught him that lesson.

A sickening bang tells him that Keenser has fallen off of something again. He calls out to the alien who responds with a high-pitched gibberish before running off in another direction. The engineer grits his teeth and bends over his work, determined to finish on time.

---

Engineer Montgomery Scott is nervous, more so than he needs to be. He did already come up with this theory in another time, so it must be true, he reminds himself. The group he is presenting to surely can't have much to contend with in terms of his presentation. However, despite this half-hearted reassurance, Scotty is sweating bullets and wishing he had a glass of scotch to calm his nerves.

Keenser waves to him from off stage, preferring to take no credit for the miniscule work he did on dissecting the theory and its many parts. Scott is happy with this situation. He did after all do most of the work himself while baby-sitting his green alien friend. Reluctantly, but kindly, Scotty waves back just as the chattering audience begins to quiet down.

He steps toward the front of the stage to introduce himself as his theories and equations are projected up onto a screen behind him. He doesn't need to look at anything up there though. This, he decides, is his life's work, and he knows everything there is to know about it. If he isn't the expert on all things pertaining to transporters and beaming he doesn't know who is.

As he moves through the different parts of the theory, the mathematics behind each part, and the physical explanation to go with it (he uses grapefruits to illustrate these points) his audience's attention grows more rapt. In the pauses where he takes a breath before continuing he can hear the wheels turning in their heads as they comprehend everything he is saying, at the same time their stylus' fly across their PADDs in unison. It is a beautiful sight to behold for such an impassioned young man.

When the engineer finishes with a swift "Does anyone have any questions?" silence greets him, and for a split second he fears that he has failed in explaining one of the most important discoveries of the century. Then, all of a sudden, everyone erupts in a cacophony of sounds. Voices rise against one another as questions and comments are hurled at Scotty's ears.

He tries to pick people out of the crowd, but they are a roiling mass of excitement and curiosity. After a few minutes of well-ordered chaos things die down enough for Scott to be heard over the din. He points to an eager old gentleman in one of the back rows, recognising him as a lecturer he once had at Starfleet. The gentleman stands up shakily and peers at the young engineer through his thick glasses. He is smiling the widest smile the Scotsman has ever seen in his entire life.

"That was perhaps the most riveting and well-stated theory I have heard in several decades, young man. I'd certainly like to learn more about this transwarp beaming. Perhaps we could see it in action since it seems you have already tested this on human subjects. What did you say your name was again?"

"Engineer Montgomery Scott, Sir," Scotty says, beaming back at the old man, who nods approvingly.

"Montgomery Scott, eh?" the old man continues, shaking a finger, "Mark my words, young man, if you can prove this works with human beings, you'll go down in the history books!"

No amount of scotch or whiskey in the world could make Scotty feel more on top of the world than he feels at this moment.

**Authoress' Note:** Just to let everyone know, I've finished writing this entire story. All of the chapters are up on my computer, so it's just a matter of getting them up in an appropriate amount of time. I'll try to have at least one out every weekend, but unfortunately, some of the chapters need quite a bit of work, so it may have to be every other weekend. At any rate, you can expect more consistent updates. Thanks for keeping up with this! :) I love this chapter just for the fact that Keenser is in it. I'm so glad he was introduced in this last movie.


	20. A Taste of Home

**Authoress' Note:** A special note to Peachly (because I have nothing else worth commenting on right now) – First off, thanks for your lovely review! I enjoyed reading it thoroughly. I'm so glad there's a fellow fan of TOS out there who appreciates my subtle attempts to get this story going in that direction. As for Spock angsty-ness, how did you guess I love writing that? ;) By the way, I admit, considering I am not a native of Iowa I had to do some research on the traditional types of food they enjoy. It was quite enlightening.

**A Taste of Home**

Jim Kirk ambles down the dirt road, dragging his luggage along behind him in the dust. Bones follows, mumbling something about aching feet and coughing on the dirt that Kirk kicks up. Jim looks back at his friend, shielding his eyes from the hot sun. A house looms several hundred yards ahead of them still, and cornfields stretch out around them in all directions.

"Sorry about the long walk, Bones. I knew I shoulda left my bike here when I left. With my luck someone would've nicked it anyway."

He shakes his head and lifts his bag up onto his shoulders. McCoy jogs a bit to catch up with the young captain. He shields his eyes from the setting sun in order to see the house appearing before them like a mirage in the distance. His stomach growls loudly, and he realises they haven't eaten since the morning.

"Is your mom much of a cook?" McCoy asks, the only thing now on his mind being food.

Kirk shrugs. "She knows how to make some of the foods that our food replicator can't handle. Ya know, good homemade foods like pork tenderloin and creamed corn. She makes schnitzel kind of good."

They trudge up to the gate of the house and stop, gazing down the long dirt drive to the small house with the screen door and front porch. McCoy feels at home at once despite the cornfields in the distance. Jim blocks McCoy from entering the gate by putting his hand on top of it.

"There's one thing you gotta know," he says evenly, "My stepdad, Frank, is a real bastard. I don't know if he's still around anymore. He and Mom weren't on great terms when I left, so yeah . . ."

McCoy nods, and Jim looks relieved. If there's anything the Doctor understand well it's the issues that come along with a broken household. He only hopes that his daughter isn't experiencing them herself. The young captain pushes open the front gate and leads the way up the drive. They're halfway there when someone practically flies out of the house, sending the screen door banging.

A small streak of blonde hair and blue fabric collides with Jim Kirk, almost knocking him to the ground. Winona Kirk catches her son around the middle and sobs into his chest for a few minutes, while he pats her back awkwardly. When she steps away, she presses a hand to her lips to suppress a giddy smile and looks her son up and down. He smiles easily under her gaze as tears stream down her cheeks.

"God, I thought you were dead!" she cries, hugging him again, "When I heard about that Romulan attacking all those Starfleet ships I knew you just had to be dead. It was the worst feeling a mother could every have. I was so afraid for you."

She steps back again, holding Jim's hand tightly in her own. Jim Kirk has never remembered her looking so beautiful. There are lines around her eyes and mouth that he doesn't remember being there before, but her sun-bleached blonde hair captured into a loose braid down her back and her soft brown eyes are still familiar to him. He notes to himself with a slight frown how thin she has become and how she hides it underneath a loose fitting sundress.

Kirk suddenly realises that McCoy is still standing behind him, looking at the ground and scuffing up the dirt awkwardly. His mother finally seems to take notice of him as well and raises both eyebrows at her son.

"Mom, this is Leonard McCoy. I call him Bones. He got me through Starfleet in one piece. Bones, this is my mom, Winona Kirk Emerson."

"It's just Winona Kirk now," his mother pipes up quietly.

McCoy shakes her hand. "A pleasure to meet you, ma'am. I may have got your son through Starfleet in one piece, but he got me through alive. I don't know where I'd be without him."

Winona Kirk beams under this praise, while Kirk looks up at the sky, embarrassed.

"Are you two hungry?" she asks then, ushering the two of them toward the door. "The replicator can make anything you like. I can also whip up some creamed corn. I know that's your favourite, Jim."

"You wouldn't happen to know how to make collard greens, would you?" McCoy asks, his stomach growling again at the mention of food. "I haven't had some good Southern cooking since my wife and I . . ."

He trails off as they step inside. Winona Kirk doesn't miss a beat though. She bustles off to the kitchen calling out, "I can make collard greens. They were never popular with Jim, but I can make 'em. George used to think they were divine."

Standing in the entryway, they can just make out the sounds of water splashing into a pot and the sound of a knife chopping against a cutting board. Jim looks around, confused. He hasn't seen the house look this way since before Frank moved in. It's spick and span down to the nooks and crannies. The smell of homemade food wafts toward them, a smell that Kirk hasn't encountered in some time.

"Mom, where's Frank?" Jim calls loudly so that his mother can hear.

She sticks her head out through kitchen door. "What's that?"

"Where's Frank?" Kirk asks again, quieter this time.

A shadow passes over his mother's face for an instant before dissipating in the air between them.

"He's gone, Jim. Left right after you did. I haven't heard from him in years," she says this without a care and shrugs her shoulders half-heartedly. Then she points with a kitchen knife down the corridor. "Jim, you can have your old room, and Leonard, you can have Sam's room."

"Please, call me Bones," McCoy says, as they hoist their luggage up again, "Your son does."

Winona smiles, "Of course."

The kitchen door shuts behind her, and the two men make their way down the corridor to the two small bedrooms beyond. They give each other time to unpack, each going to their separate rooms. Jim, however, doesn't unpack his luggage right away. Instead, he lies on his bed, staring up at the familiar ceiling and breathing in the smell of his mother's home cooking. He closes his eyes, realising that he has never appreciated such small and simple things like that before.

---

Meanwhile, far out in deep space, the _Enterprise_ orbits the planet of Talos IV. Spock sits in the captain's chair as second in command, staring at the view screen before him. The surface of the planet is dark, harsh, and unchanging. He shifts in the chair uncomfortably, drawing his slanted eyebrows together in thought.

Admiral Pike has been missing for several hours and has not responded to the ship's persistent hailing frequencies. It is therefore a logical assumption that the Admiral is dead, wounded, or captured by a hostile enemy. It is his duty as the first officer to decide whether to send a landing party down to search for him or to leave him behind.

Spock's mind suddenly finds itself on the subject of James T. Kirk. He wonders exactly what the young captain would do if he ever found himself in such a situation. True, when he and Jim Kirk had been stranded on Caldos no one had come to their rescue, but then again, the crew of the _Enterprise_ were under the impression that the people of Caldos were not a hostile people.

It was impossible to tell with the people of Talos IV. Not that they had seen any people yet. The sensors had detected humanoid life forms, but were unable to tell him anymore about this mysterious planet and its inhabitants. The only known records in the databanks were about a starship that had been forced to land on the planet years ago. There had been no known survivors. This fact troubled Spock the most.

James T. Kirk, he decides, would make up a new landing party and put his self in it. He would beam onto the planet's surface and use any means to find out what had happened to the missing Admiral. No one would get left behind on his ship. Spock vows to himself that he will do the same thing, no matter how illogical it may seem at times. He presses the comm button on his armchair, intending to speak to the transporter room.

"Please contact Nurse Christine Chapel, Dr. Boyce, Lieutenant Tyler, and Yeoman Colt, and have them meet me in the transporter room. We are going to attempt a rescue of Admiral Pike."


	21. Aching, Lonely Hearts

**Authoress' Note:** Moving in to university this week, so I thought I'd get one more chapter out to tide everyone over. Thanks so much to Damsel for her consistently FANTASTIC reviews. Seriously, she is rad, and I don't even know if she knows it. Of course, thanks to everyone else who has faved, reviewed, etc. It feels great knowing that some people believe in this story.

**Aching, Lonely Hearts**

"I do wish you could stay longer, Jim," Winona Kirk sighs, hugging her youngest son close. "I don't see why that assignment can't wait another month. I'm your mother for goodness sake, and I haven't seen you in years. It's bad enough Sam is light years away himself."

"I know, Mom, I know," Jim Kirk says softly, patting his mother's back gently, "It's not just me though. Bones has got an assignment at the clinic. You wouldn't want him to miss that, would you?"

His mother steps out of her son's embrace and looks down at her hands wringing themselves into knots in front of her. She glances back up at him reluctantly.

"Well, no, I wouldn't, and I know how attached to him you are. It's just . . ." she trails off, biting her lip.

"You know I love you, Mom," Jim says, thankful that his best friend is still in the house packing up. "But Starfleet is important to me. They want me to teach, and even though that's not something I'd really like to do, it'll give me _something_ to do until I can get the _Enterprise_ back."

She nods, and then looks up at him wearily, her warm brown eyes heavy with sadness at the thought of losing him again so soon.

"I understand. Your father was the same way with the Kelvin. Sometimes I wondered if he was really married to me or that ship."

Kirk studies her closely as she remembers his father, a man he has never seen. He has always felt some sense of loss at not ever knowing who his father was, and this loss is compounded even more by the fact that he will now be losing his mother again.

"You can still contact me, you know," Jim says in reassurance. "I've given you all the numbers you can use to message me on my PADD or the vidscreen. It won't be like when I left the first time, I promise."

Winona Kirk smiles wanly up at her son and gives his arm a light squeeze as tears well up in her eyes threatening to spill down her smooth cheeks.

"You're a good boy," she says, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek gently. "Your father would be so proud of you."

The screen door slams and the sound of dragging suitcases can be heard from behind them. Jim's mother hastily wipes the tears from under her eyes with the hem of her blouse and makes to take a step back away from her son, but not before he can whisper something that only she can hear.

"Mom, I'm glad Frank's not around anymore."

Her eyes brighten as she responds, "Me too."

Just then, McCoy lumbers up behind them, heaving their luggage in his wake. He sets both down with a _thump_ as Kirk's mother holds her arms out to him for a hug. She squeezes him tightly, much to his surprise, and plants a kiss on his cheek.

"Keep an eye on my son, will you?" she asks.

"Of course, ma'am. It's been a pleasure meeting you. I haven't had such fine cooking and company in many years."

"The pleasure was all mine, dear," she says, glowing under his praise. She turns back to her son, "Now then, I want you to let me know when you've arrived in San Francisco, okay? I hope I packed enough food for the two of you."

McCoy struggles to lift his suitcase up. "Yeah, I think we're good, thanks."

Jim Kirk hoists his suitcase up as well and waves farewell to his mother one last time.

"Bye, Mom."

She waves back as they trudge up the dusty road toward the gate. "Stay safe. I love you."

Jim waves again for good measure as they close the gate behind them. When they are farther down the road he looks back for a split second to see his mother still standing in front of her small wood frame house, her sky blue skirt and blonde hair blowing in the wind that is kicking up dust around her. He commits the image to memory, hoists his pack up a bit higher, and jogs to catch up with Bones.

The flight from Iowa to San Francisco is faster than Jim thought it would be. No sooner has he settled into his seat and fallen asleep to the gentle thrumming of the shuttlecraft engine than he is being shaken awake by the gruff doctor. Jim can tell his friend hasn't gotten a wink of sleep in several days and secretly wonders why.

It's raining when they arrive at Starfleet. After exiting the shuttlecraft in the main hangar Jim insists on asking after his helmsman, Sulu, whom he had heard was busy piloting the crafts. To his dismay the young Asian is nowhere to be seen, and anyone they ask doesn't know who he is or what work detail he had\s that day.

Dejected, the captain and the doctor drag their luggage out to a line of hover cabs waiting for passengers outside. Rain splatters against the windows in large drops, and the two men do not speak to one another, but rather sit in pensive silence until they arrive at their assigned flat, the very same that Spock and Kirk had once shared. They dump their luggage in the front entryway and make their way to their separate rooms for the night being much too tired to stay up and do much else.

Kirk punches in the appropriate numbers on the keypad of the living room vidscreen and waits patiently as the image swims into view. He is thankful that the rain hasn't caused too much interference. The small farmhouse living room comes into focus and his mother is there in an instant.

"Hello? Jim?" she asks, out of breath.

"Hi Mom. The lag isn't so bad. We made it back okay, and it's raining here. Otherwise everything is fine."

"Good," she says, a relieved smile on her face, "Did you eat any of the food I packed?"

"No, we weren't very hungry. Trust me though, we'll be starving tomorrow, and there won't be anything left of it."

"That's all right."

They are silent for a moment; the only sound is that of the falling rain outside and the muffled sound of rolling thunder. McCoy has the sonic shower going in the bathroom.

"Jim?"

"Yeah, Mom?"

"Thanks for coming home, even if it was for a little while, I'm glad you came. I was so scared for you."

"I know, Mom. It's all right. I'm here."

"Good luck with your classes. I hope those students treat you right," her voice begins to crack with emotion, and Jim fears that if the conversation continues he'll break down as well. Already he fights the urge to jump on a shuttlecraft and go back home.

"I hope so too. I love you, and I'll talk to you soon."

"I love you too. Send my love to Bones as well. He's a good man."

"I thought you'd like him," Jim says with a smile, glad that his friend is in the shower and not where he can hear the contents of their conversation. It would probably embarrass the usually humble doctor.

"Good-night, Mom."

"Good-night."

She waves at him and blows a quick kiss as the picture fades out. Kirk stands up, and slumps onto the couch, rubbing his eyes with his fists. He is so incredibly tired, even after spending the past month or so being waited on hand and foot by his mother. A dull ache spreads in his stomach, and he wonders for a moment if Spock's mother was anything like his own. He wishes the two could have met.

The door to the bathroom swooshes open, and Kirk catches a glimpse of McCoy coming down the corridor already dressed to go to bed. Jim stands up slowly and makes his way toward the doctor's closed door. He knocks once and opens without even waiting for a reply. Bones sits listlessly on the bed, his chin resting in one hand, while in the other he holds a picture of a beautiful woman with a little girl by her side. The woman grips the girl's hand tightly as though she is afraid of letting go.

"Bones?"

McCoy starts, putting the picture down quickly, and whipping around to face his friend.

"I didn't hear you come in! Nearly gave me a coronary!"

The false surprise in the doctor's voice makes Kirk cringe, and he moves to sit next to him on the bed. He looks down at the picture on the bedside table, the overhead light reflecting off the glass.

"Who's that?" he asks, pointing at the little girl, although he already has some suspicion of who she is.

"My daughter, Joanna," McCoy says quietly, and when Jim Kirk looks at him he is surprised to find a look of complete sadness on his friend's face.

"And that's-"

"The ex, yeah."

"She's beautiful. Joanna, I mean. Don't you ever miss her?"

McCoy meets Kirk's eyes and picks up the photo, staring at it unblinkingly. When he speaks, his voice is more broken than Jim has ever heard it before.

"More than you can ever imagine."

Kirk puts a hand on his friend's shoulder to steady him.

"Why don't you visit her before you start work at the clinic?" he suggests. "We've still got a few days left of time off before we really need to get started.

McCoy continues to stare at the picture, and then looks up at his captain with defiant eyes.

"That's exactly what I'll do, Jim. I'll take the next shuttlecraft down to Mississippi, and there's damn nothing the ex can do about it!"


	22. Things Left Unsaid

**Authoress' Note:** One of my favourite chapters EVER!! YAY angsty Leonard! FWEE! Peachly: You shall just have to wait and see. There are many different ways I could go with that particular character now. ;) Don't forget to review! Thanks so much!

**Things Left Unsaid**

Leonard McCoy waits nervously outside the all too familiar house with the wraparound porch he once shared with his wife wondering how the hell he had let James T. Kirk talk him into coming here. He concludes that he must've been crazy, tired, drunk, or just plain stupid. At this point, he's not sure whether he should ring the old fashioned doorbell again. He hadn't even bothered to tell anyone he was coming, so it is entirely possible that they aren't even at home. Cautiously, he peeks in through the darkened front windows only to find the curtains drawn. Dismayed, he walks back down the steps and toward the hover cab he instructed to wait. The driver shrugs at him from the open window.

"No luck?"

"Obviously," the doctor snaps through gritted teeth.

Just as he opens the door and is about to step inside an icy voice cuts across the lawn and slashes through him like a sword.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

McCoy turns on his heel, closing the cab door quietly, as though he has been caught in the act of doing something he shouldn't have been doing. He hates that feeling; the feeling she always gives him that _he _was the one who committed the wrong and not her. After all, he was the one who introduced her to that filthy, backstabbing . . . The doctor shakes his head, trying to clear his mind of murderous thoughts. It's hard enough for him to think with _her_ around as it is.

She looks the same as she did only a few years ago, beautiful and cold, her face forever a mask of defiance and indifference. Of course, she hadn't always been like that. There was another side to her that he had once known reduced now to only a distorted and fleeting image from that time. In her hand is a glass of what appears to be a mint julep. McCoy curses to himself. He had been hoping that she wouldn't have anything with her to throw, considering that type of thing usually occurred when they found themselves in the same room.

"Nice to see you too, Olivia," he says sarcastically, making his way back toward the house. Behind him, the hover cabdriver takes the cue that it's time to get away and speeds off into the distance.

"Don't give me that," she hisses, setting the mint julep down and crossing her arms. "**What** are you doing here?"

"I came to see Joanna. I am her father after all. I think I have the right to see her after such a long time."

"You think she'll even remember you?" Olivia sneers down at him, "She was a little girl when you left, and she hasn't seen you since. Why don't you just go away, back to Starfleet where you belong?"

He balls his fists defiantly. "No. I belong here, with her, and I'm not leaving till I see her."

Before his ex-wife can retort the pitter-patter of feet coming from around the side of the house reaches their ears.

"Mama? Who are you yelling-"

A young girl wearing coveralls and a flower patterned blouse underneath with her brown hair swept up in a braid down her back halts abruptly as she skids around the corner. Seething, Olivia makes her way toward her daughter.

"Baby, this is-"

"Daddy!"

After the initial shock of it all, Joanna comes to life and bounds past her mother and down the steps into her father's waiting arms. Leonard McCoy holds in the tears threatening to burst forth as he hugs his only daughter close refusing to meet Olivia's furious gaze over her shoulder. When he pulls away and straightens up Joanna immediately latches onto his hand. She smiles up at him, innocent and unknowing.

"Joanna, could you leave your father and I alone for a minute so we can talk? It'll be just a second or two."

Reluctantly, the young girl lets her hand drop, and scuffing her feet in the grass, makes her way around the side of the house again.

"So can I have her for the day?" McCoy asks baldly.

Olivia crosses her arms again and stares up at the sky.

"Is that really how long you're gonna be here? You didn't come to tell me that you're moving back, did you?"

He shakes his head. "I've got a job in the clinic at Starfleet I've got to get back to, trust me."

They are silent for a moment. Olivia finally lets out a frustrated sigh and throws her hands up in the air.

"It's not like I can stop you. You can take her, but I'm picking her up when you're done, okay?" she says, stalking back toward the side of the house.

Not expecting much else, McCoy waits until his daughter comes running back around to the front of the house. She waits patiently as he calls for another hover cab, and then launches into speech as soon as he is finished. Laughing, he holds up a hand to stop her.

"Wait a minute, kid," he says, "We've got the whole day. What do ya want to do?"

Joanna thinks for a minute before answering. "Can we go to the zoo? Mama never wants to take me to the zoo. She's always busy."

"Yeah, of course we can go. How about I take you out for ice cream afterwards too? Just don't tell your mom about that, or she'll get angry with me."

Joanna mimes zipping her lips and throwing away the key. The hover cab pulls up, and father and daughter clamber inside.

---

"Did you know that the alligator is the oldest living reptile?" Joanna asks later with her face pressed up against the glass of an aquarium filled with green and brown water.

"No, I didn't," McCoy says for the fiftieth time, "How do you know all this stuff about animals? Are you gonna be a zoologist or something?"

Joanna looks up at him with a look that says are-you-serious? He shrugs, "What? What'd I say?"

"I just happen to love animals, okay?" Joanna asks matter-of-factly turning away from the glass. "Mom thinks I want to be a zoologist, but I don't."

"What do you want to be?"

Joanna looks down at her feet as she leans her back up against the tank. McCoy bends down next to her and lifts her chin up.

"Hey now, what's wrong?"

"I want to be a doctor, like you, but Mama doesn't want me to. She doesn't like it at all, and I don't understand why."

She says all of this very fast, as she rocks back and forth against the aquarium. She sniffles a little, and McCoy pulls her into a hug where she buries her face in his neck.

"Don't listen to your mom, okay? You can be whatever you want to be if you set your mind and your heart to it."

Joanna pulls her head away a little bit and stares at her father with the very same blue eyes.

"Do you think I could be a doctor at Starfleet?" she asks.

"If you want to. We could always use more doctors."

She beams at her father and wraps her arms around his neck again. He picks her up and they exit the reptile house to go look at the monkeys. On the way he continues talking.

"How are you doing in school?" he asks, "You're gonna need lots of schooling if you want to be a doctor."

"I don't like school very much," she whispers, "I mean, I always get my work right and done on time, but none of the other kids like me very much."

McCoy's face falls in unison with his daughter's. She picks at the button on her coveralls as they walk down the line of cages housing the different monkey species.

"How could they not like such a smart and caring girl like you?" he asks gently.

She shrugs. "They always make fun of me because I know the answer to everything," she says dejectedly, but then looks up defiantly, "but I can't help it! I like to learn!"

"And there's nothing wrong with that! Don't mind them. Those kids don't know that they're missing out on getting to know a fantastic little girl."

Though his words cheer Joanna considerably, McCoy feels guilty for not being able to act on those words. Deep down, he knows that as soon as he leaves she'll be left to fend for herself once again against the all too cruel teasing that young children are capable of. McCoy glances at the watch on his wrist and is surprised to see how much time has passed so quickly.

"Let's go get some ice cream before your mom comes to get you."

---

Joanna moves her spoon around the bowl of sundae ice cream they have shared mixing the chocolate syrup and vanilla ice cream until it is a mess of brown mixed with bits of fruit. She's been extremely quiet since he told her that he'd have to be leaving soon. McCoy studies her as she lets the ice cream drip from her spoon and back into the bowl. He can't believe how much older she is and how much she is like him in more than looks now. It fills his heart with immense sadness knowing it may be many more years before he is able to see her again.

"Anything else you wanna tell me about before we go?" he asks, not wanting to miss anything.

Joanna shrugs, a movement she's pretty good at and does regularly.

"Mama's got a boyfriend. I didn't tell you earlier, because I didn't want you to be upset."

"I'm not upset," he says quietly, surprised that she'd been able to hold in such information for so long. "Do you like him?"

"He's not like you," she says, and his heart swells with pride, "But I hardly see him anyway. Mama doesn't really like him to be around me."

McCoy frowns at that statement but do not say anything, waiting for her to continue. Several minutes go by, and then she sets down her spoon inside the bowl and turns toward me. She opens her mouth and thinks for a moment before speaking.

"I'm so happy you're here, Daddy," she says, "I was so scared for you when I heard about that Romulan. Mama tried to hide it from me, but I watched the news feeds in the morning before she got up. Were you scared when you were out there in space?"

"Just scared of not seeing you again," he says truthfully.

"I'm gonna miss you," Joanna continues, "When will you visit again?"

"I don't know. It could be a long time."

"Why so long?"

"Mama isn't very happy with me," McCoy says carefully.

"I know," Joanna says in the same matter-of-fact tone, "Just try to visit when you can."

"Okay, you know I will," he says, as she smiles at him and awkwardly hugs him around the middle, "Just keep doing good in school, and don't give your mom any trouble, okay? She'll think I did something to you."

Joanna lets out a peal of laughter, and I can't help laughing too.

"Speaking of your mom, there she is now," he stands up and points through the window as Joanna cranes her neck to see.

Olivia, her lips pursed firmly, enters the ice cream shop at the front and meets the doctor and her daughter at the back door. Together they step outside in silence looking like a distorted picture of a perfect family.

"Jo, say good-bye to your father, and go wait for me in the hover car, okay?"

Reluctantly, and with tears in her eyes, Joanna throws her arms around McCoy for the last time. He kisses the top of her head gently, and when she moves away he wipes the tears from under her eyes with his thumb.

"I love you," he whispers so only she can hear, and she kisses his forehead before trudging around the corner of the building to the waiting hover car by the curb.

Olivia and her ex-husband watch her go; the latter's heart heavier than he has ever felt it before.

"She's amazing, Liv," McCoy says, nodding as his daughter disappears from sight.

"I know, Leo," Olivia says, and he is surprised by the change that has come over her voice, "She's just like you, you know?"

"I know."

"And I don't love her any less for it," she whispers, and McCoy swallows hard to get past the lump building in his throat. Olivia turns toward him, fixing him with a tired gaze. He hadn't noticed the dark circles under her eyes before, but now they stand out clearly against her pale skin.

"Don't visit again too soon," she says, the words coming out like a sigh, and he knows it's more for her sake than his daughters'. He nods complacently, and is only slightly surprised when she brushes his cheek with her lips briefly before following her daughter around the corner.

Inside he feels numb even as the sweltering sun burns down upon his head; inside, his heart is breaking into thousands of pieces that continually cut him up inside. When he arrives home the next day after spending the night drinking himself into oblivion in a shady hotel room at the far end of town Kirk asks him how everything went. He doesn't even have the heart to respond.


	23. Second Star to the Right

**Authoress' Note: **It seems I have been confusing the Vulcan city of ShiKahr with Spock's ancestral home all this time. No one brought it to my attention, and so it is fully my fault for getting my facts wrong. It's not a big deal, but I'm sure a few hardcore Trekkers are scratching their heads. Otherwise, I'm sorry for the gigantic time jump in this chapter. I'm sure you all can understand why it would feel redundant to write what all of the characters are up to for a full 2 years.

**Second Star to the Right . . .**

**2 Years Later**

Spock Prime, as the older counterpart of his younger self, has now been affectionately called, wishes for only two people to be present as he makes his attempt at slingshotting around the sun in order to get back to his own universe and time, Nyota Uhura and his father, Sarek.

With the help of the newly reconstructed Vulcan Science Academy, which has already begun its latest session he was able to complete a second model of the Jellyfish starship commissioned to him by _his_ times own science academy. It is an exact replica, minus the red matter compartment, much to Spock Prime's private relief. He has no wish to repeat the mistake he made only years earlier that is still fresh in many of the Vulcan's minds.

The new home world, Vulcan II as it has been aptly named, has grown much faster than he could have ever expected. The people of Vulcan, steeped in their tradition and culture, have proven themselves to be a determined race dedicated to not only starting an entirely new life, but of continuing an old and comfortable one. Spock wonders if the people in his own timeline could boast of having such a strength that his people here show.

Rebuilding was slow, as he and the Vulcan High Council had expected, and the implementation of the repopulating process still had no started nor did it have any hope of beginning in the very near future. At least, the official policies hadn't been put into effect yet. That didn't stop people from being bonded though. Spock was glad of that fact. It meant normalcy would someday resume its natural course on their world.

The main city, where new buildings for the Vulcan High Command, the Science Academy, a space port terminal, Terran and other off world embassies, as well as many of the other traditional and ceremonial parts of their old world have been erected in a short amount of time. Together, Spock and Sarek have worked at creating blueprints for a new ShiKahr, their ancient home stretching back to the time before Surak. The house with its many rooms had not been finished before Spock announced he would be making his departure.

No one had felt the urge to stop him from going. In fact, some were glad to be rid of this strange Vulcan from the future with the very human eyes and the easy countenance. Spock was ready to go though. He had prepared himself for this day for several months, making sure to leave his people in good terms despite the hardship and strife he had brought upon them.

A few days before leaving, T'Pau came to him; she almost as old as him, and with great respect and dignity about her asked if he would be willing to recount the plight of the Vulcans in the Hall of Memories so that their story would never be forgotten. The older Vulcan had obliged, honoured that people who had once shunned and bullied him in his youth, would now be able to accept him as one of their own. It saddened him to think he had not achieved that much on his own home planet.

So he had gone to the Hall of Memories and recorded there for future generations the story of his time traveling, of the rogue Nero, and of the destroying of the Vulcan home. The tale was not to end with bitter sadness, however, but rather with hope, an emotion he had never truly understood but had a great respect for. Later he stood in the Hall of Ancient Thought, seeping in the images of the pre-Reform era and of Surak, his peoples' saviour. He had noticed that the katric arc had not been rebuilt, and he thought that perhaps it never would be. After all, there were no more katras to be housed.

In his contemplations he noted how this Vulcan felt different than the one in his own time, even the one that had been destroyed. Here, there was an obvious day-to-day fight for survival, a kind of struggle that the people had not seen since Surak's time. It was a terrible and yet wondrous thing to behold as people began life anew with what little possessions they had. He had never seen Vulcans come together and rely on each other in such a way before.

Now the day has come for him to make his farewells to some of his closest companions who he knows he will never see again. It is enough that he has seen them though; it is enough to know that they are out there in some distant plane of existence; it is enough to know that they know him and will remember him. He reminds himself that his mission has not been a failure even in light of the events that occurred.

His father arrives first at the science academy's spacecraft landing pad, dressed in new robes of a dark blue material. He looks regal in them despite all that has happened. As Spock approaches the two mirror each other, raising their right hands in the Vulcan salute.

"Our time together has been pleasurable, my son," Sarek says, "My heart is heavy at the thought of your imminent departure."

"I will not be completely gone, Father," Spock says, his voice gravelly in the failing light. "You will always have a son out there," he looks up at the heavens above them, where pinpricks of stars have begun to light up the sky, "and eventually he will come home. His time is not yet over. There is still so much for him to see and to learn and to do."

Sarek nods sagely. "I know now what sort of man he will become, and I am grateful for this glimpse into the future that other's do not have. You will not be forgotten. Live long and prosper, my son."

"Peace and long life, Father."

Sarek steps back, bowing his head to hide the sadness reflected in his eyes. Nyota Uhura is there, behind him, appearing out of the darkness. She looks harried and distraught, her ponytail blowing in the wind. Spock turns to her, and his face lights up in a way only she can take notice of as she takes both of his wrinkled hands in hers. She squeezes them gently, conveying hundreds of human emotions in that simple gesture. Though he is not used to such contact, he allows her to hold on to him for a few minutes longer.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she says quietly, "There's so much still to do, and I'm terrible at keeping track of the time it seems."

She smiles at him, tears in her eyes.

"Do you really have to go?"

He searches those bright brown eyes, hopeful in the growing twilight. She feels like the daughter he never had, and for an instant he is afraid to let her go. He nods reluctantly, however.

"My time here is over. I am no longer need, though there is still so much more yet to be accomplished, however, it is not my right to see it fulfilled. I am placing the rest of Vulcans future into the people's hands, as it should be."

Uhura nods and takes one hand away to wipe at the tears flowing down her cheeks. She murmurs an apology for her inability to keep her emotions in check, and Spock shakes his head firmly to stop her. If there is anything he has learned from this entire situation it has been to not overlook the emotions of others, hidden or otherwise.

"Do not apologise for your humanity, Nyota. It is what makes you who you are. No one should take that away from you."

She nods, and lets his hands drop gently and takes a step back, tears still threatening to brim over and spill down her cheeks. Spock Prime gives her a rare smile then, something he is sure she will always treasure, and salutes her as he did his Father. In his native Vulcan tongue Spock repeats to her the familiar words of parting that he can only hope will ring true for her at some point in her life.

"Live long and prosper, Nyota."

She raises her hand in farewell and responds in the same tongue, her voice lyrical as it is carried to me on the wind.

"Peace and long life, Spock."

Spock ponders the irony of the words, noting to himself the response he gave T'Pau so many decades ago upon the aftermath of his pon farr. It was a much different time and place back then, and it warms his heart to realise now that he has had both peace and a long life, though he was not aware of it at the time.

Nyota smiles back and waves in a very human fashion as Spock boards his small ship. Taking his place at the controls, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Opening them again Spock finds that he is already rising into the air as Vulcan II becomes smaller and smaller below him. Then he is off with the words of a dear captain and friend ringing in his ears.

"Second star to the right, and straight on till morning . . ."

**Authoress' Note: **By the way, one of my readers caught a rogue POV shift toward the end of the last chapter that confused her. If you happen to notice me switching between 1st and 3rd POV then please let me know. I hardly ever write in 3rd, so it's a bit of a challenge for me to keep it that way through out the chapter, and sometimes I slip up.


	24. Shifting Perspective

**Authoress' Note: **This is definitely my second favorite chapter for several reasons. :) I won't list them though, so that I don't give anything away. It's about time we brought the story back to Uhura, our leading lady. I do so love her character. The next few chapters will probably be solely from her point of view actually. Please review when you're doing reading! Thanks so much!

**Shifting Perspective**

The lights in Uhura's office dim as she exits the room, pulls her sweater from off the rack, and yanks it over her head. The Terran Embassy is freezing despite the hot temperatures of the planet outside. She checks to make sure the door has locked behind her and starts off down the corridor at a brisk pace, her heeled shoes clicking against the tiled floor.

She has an invitation to dine at ShiKahr with Sarek and is already a quarter of an hour late. He will not be pleased, and she doesn't think that her excuses will make up for the fact that she missed the first course. There had been a meeting, however, between members of the Terran Embassy. It had something to do with the repopulation program, which wasn't due to be put into real effect for a few more years. She hadn't really paid attention, but instead, had stared at the astronomical clock on the wall for the duration of the meeting. Absentmindedly, she waves at the young woman at the receptionist's desk as she leaves.

"Late again?" the woman calls after her, "Why do you even bother?"

Nyota waves her hand over her shoulder to acknowledge the question as she pushes open the double front doors.

"Busy, Aria. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Whatever. . ."

Aria's response is not harsh, but good-natured and somewhat understanding. She and Uhura have been friends for some time, perhaps since they both worked as translators when Vulcan II was just being established. She is privy to Uhura's situation, and while it seems slightly odd to her, she is grateful for the young woman's friendship in such a strange and foreign land.

Uhura drives her hover car through the winding streets without any trouble. There is hardly ever any air traffic on Vulcan, very much unlike Earth. ShiKahr is situated farther out from the city on an outcropping of rocks, underneath the looming mountains. In the distance, a single mountain, similar to that of Mount Seleya, rises up behind the grounds set aside for such ancient traditions as _koon-ut-kal-if-fee_ and other Vulcan mating rituals.

In two years Uhura has seen it used often. She was once party to watching some of the youngest Vulcans climb to the mountains summit and become bonded in a ceremony that Spock described to her as "less than marriage, but more than a betrothal". It all seemed rather mysterious to her, and when she had inquired further about it, Spock had not answered.

Uhura parked the hover car in the front and climbed the many steps as quickly as she could in her Terran heels. Even at this time of day, on the verge of night, the air was hot and humid enough to cause her sweater to stick to her uncomfortably. She pulled down her skirt and cursed under her breath for forgetting the light veil she had bought only months earlier to cover her head after being informed that it was a traditional garment that most Vulcan women wear.

She lets herself in, as Sarek had instructed her to do on previous occasions, and glances at herself in a mirror in the entryway. She looks presentable enough. At least, she won't have to fear offending anyone. Modesty she has learned is something of a virtue to Vulcans. They often do not take kindly to her short Terran skirts and dresses and are even less impressed with the way she wears her hair and walks about in high shoes.

When she enters, Sarek has already begun eating alone in a grand dining room able to seat at least a dozen more people. Uhura slips into the chair next to him, trying not to disrupt his thoughts. They sit in silence as a bowl of plomeek soup is placed in front of her. She sips at it slowly and watches the ambassador out of the corner of her eye. He sighs deeply, pushes his bowl away, and leans back in his chair watching her. She places her spoon on the side of the bowl and lowers her eyes.

"I'm sorry for being late. There was a meeting at the embassy. It will not happen again."

Sarek nods approvingly, impressed with her sincerity and humbleness. He has taught her well over the last couple of years. Tonight is not a night to stand on ceremony, however, and he lifts her chin gently with one finger as he once did with Amanda long ago on Earth.

"There is no need for such caution here. I have much to speak with you about. Do you have time to stay?"

"Of course!" Uhura says as a plate of something that looks like shellfish, but is an odd blue-grey colour replaces the empty bowl.

"Good. I had hoped to speak with you on a matter of great importance that has come up in the Vulcan High Council."

Uhura watches Sarek to see how to separate the shell from the meat, and is surprised when he cuts the entire specimen in half. She notes to herself that it doesn't even crunch like a shell should. She cuts her piece and almost laughs out loud. What she thought was a shell is actually a soft casing that seems to be edible. At any rate, it smells delicious.

Sarek continues without any pretense. "Vulcans do not normally speak of such things to other worlders, but I feel that you have earned a certain right to hear such things. You are not Vulcan, but I believe you will understand," he takes a deep breath through his nostrils, "As you know, the repopulation plans and policies will go into effect in the next few years. We are fine-tuning them in the High Council at this moment. As it is, I stand by what I told my son 2 years ago now; I will not remarry. Instead, I have agreed to donate."

"Donate?" Uhura asks, after swallowing a particularly large amount of the mysterious shellfish. She draws her eyebrows together, confused.

"Yes," the older Vulcan pauses and seems to struggle for a moment before continuing his explanation, "There is a list of Vulcan women who are willing to become surrogate mothers. I thought perhaps I would be able to contribute in that respect."

"Surrogate . . . oh. Oh, yes, I see," Uhura realises exactly what they are discussing and begins shoveling food in her mouth, thankful for her dark skin colour as she is certainly blushing a deep red at the very thought of such a dignified Vulcan engaging in such activities.

"You are uncomfortable," Sarek states matter-of-factly, in a voice not unlike his son's, "Have I offended you in some way?"

Uhura holds up her hands in front of her chest, her fork clattering onto the plate. "No, no I'm not offended at all! I just didn't think we'd be discussing something so personal."

"It will not be a regular occurrence, I can assure you."

"That's fine," Uhura says, relaxing, "Great. What else did the High Council discuss that you wanted to share with me?"

"The matter of my son's absence."

Uhura swallows hard and sucks in a deep breath to keep her self from choking. For a moment she feels as though the bottom of her stomach has completely dropped away. She refuses to meet Sarek's eyes that are boring into her.

"We agreed, not that long ago when we were just beginning to rebuild, that he would not be forced to return until biology itself forced him to return or our repopulation programme began. Neither has happened as you can see."

Uhura nods, although she is confused by Sarek's use of the term "biology". A lot of Vulcans seem to use it, and she still isn't entirely sure what the connotation behind it is. The only definition she has ever come across for such a word is the typical dictionary definition: characteristic life processes and phenomena of living organisms. It sounds an awful lot like sex to her, but she isn't exactly sure how she could possibly confirm such an idea without being blatant about it.

"Repopulation outside of this programme is inevitable. It is to be set in place most generally for creating bonds between many different gene pools and establishing that no Vulcan remains alone. My son will be bonded to a Vulcan woman when he returns, whenever that may be. It could be years from now. He is still very young."

Uhura nods again, mechanically, a lump forming in her throat. How could he know that such a conversation as this one would cause her such pain? Even after all this time apart she still finds that the very thought of Spock with another woman sets her insides burning with jealousy and hatred. She stares down at her plate intensely.

"Has it ever occurred to you that there is someone who loves him very deeply still waiting for him, ready to accept the responsibilities of being a Vulcan wife?"

Her voice is firm, and she meets Sarek's gaze with such intensity that for a split second he looks taken aback.

"It has," the older Vulcan states simply, "And I would have this person know that I of all people would not wish to sunder such a union if it were not my duty to my people to have my son bonded to a fellow Vulcan. "

"I understand," Uhura whispers, her throat constricting painfully.

"No, I do not think you do."

Sarek's voice is hard and cold, stinging like a slap across her cheek.

"In two years our population has not grown in the slightest. 47.3% of the population is past childbearing age, while barely 8% of the population is children under the age of 7. Only 14 children were bonded to one another this year, though that is up from 10 last year. We are a dying species, and a Vulcan child of mixed blood is better than no child at all."

The sharpness of his tone hurts more than anything he could ever say to her, and Uhura bows her head against the onslaught of tears. Again, Sarek lifts her chin gently. His face is still set in that stern mask that he usually wears, but his eyes have softened as he gazes down on her face.

"I think it is time for you to go home, Nyota-kan."

She nods, still upset by his words, but does not show it. She lowers her head, slightly ashamed that she had not been able to stay until the meal was finished. He seems to sense her disappointment and hurt. Standing up, he places a hand upon her shoulder just as she passes by him on her way to the door.

"Do not be ashamed. I had a human wife. She would not have you leave in such a state."

It is almost as though he has enveloped her in a hug, such is the feeling that lifts her spirits. She lifts her head and meets his eyes once more before leaving the room without another word. Uhura wishes then that she could have known the woman who was Spock's mother. Amanda Grayson seemed to have been a very lucky woman indeed.


	25. Signs

**Authoress' Note:** Just a quick filler chapter with some nice dialogue. Meatier chapters to come. Thanks for the reviews and faves!

**Signs**

Nyota drives back to her flat near the embassy with a myriad of emotions swirling around inside of her. She drives blindly for some time, caught up in her talk with Sarek, and hardly remembers arriving home. She suddenly finds herself longing to contact Spock, an illogical action considering she hasn't spoken to him in years and has no idea of his current whereabouts.

The automatic lights flicker on as she enters her flat and the door whooshes shut behind her and locks automatically. She slips off her shoes and tosses them into her darkened bedroom before making her way to the wall display on the other side of the sitting room. She stares at it for a moment even as her stomach rumbles, reminding her that she's hardly eaten all day.

She glances over the different tabs in the feed, and then stops on the number display for Spock's room aboard the _Enterprise_. Her hand hovers over it for a moment hardly believing that she still has the number after so much time, and then she blinks and moves on down the list toward Aria's home number. Pressing the tab, a live feed of Aria's own sitting room swims into view as an old-fashioned telephone ring plays back to her over the two-way sound system.

The young secretary, dressed in a long Vulcan style tunic doubling as pyjamas pokes her head out of the bathroom off to the side of the screen, a toothbrush in her mouth. Nyota waves at her, and the girl's head disappears behind the door again. She can hear the sound of water running, and then Aria comes skidding into the room, pulling her hair up into a high ponytail, much like Nyota's.

"Hey girl!" she says, settling herself down in front of the screen, "How was dinner with His Vulcan Highness? Surely you two didn't get through all the courses that fast? Aren't there like six or seven different parts to a traditional Vulcan meal?"

"I don't even know," Nyota confesses, shrugging her shoulders, "but it doesn't matter, because we didn't even make it through the second."

Aria's eyebrows disappear into her fringe, and her eyes widen. "Ooh. What happened?"

Nyota raises an eyebrow at her friend's reaction. "Why must you always assume that something happened?"

Aria waves her hand noncommittally, "Why else would you get thrown out of the Ambassador's house, huh?"

"Hey! I didn't get thrown out!"

"Okay, okay," Aria says hastily, holding her hands up defensively in front of her chest, "Just tell me what went down."

"Well, we talked about the repopulation plans for Vulcan mostly, and somehow Spock got mentioned. I don't really know how. It just happened, and I had no idea we'd be discussing him, so . . . I got a little bit defensive."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, it didn't turn out like I had hoped. Sarek wasn't mean about it or anything. He's incapable of being that way, but he did lay down the law concerning his son's future, wife included."

Nyota shrugs again, and Aria stares at her with widened eyes as though the idea of somehow offending the Ambassador was one of the biggest taboos anyone could ever commit. She shakes her shocked expression off quickly and regains control of the conversation.

"Soo . . . you still love Spock, don't you?"

Nyota looks away at a Vulcan painting hanging on the wall across the room from her in an attempt to avoid Aria's question. It is a square canvas splashed with gold and red, with the contrast of a sea green bird bursting upward into the bloodied sky. At least that's what Nyota thinks it is. She squints hard at it, ignoring Aria's wheedling.

"Don't ignore me!" Aria pouts, crossing her arms over her chest, "You've got to answer that question for yourself sometime you know."

Nyota breaks her gaze from the painting and looks down at her hands twisting themselves into knots in her lap. "I don't really know, Aria," she says slowly, "I haven't seen him in so long, and although I know I said I wouldn't mind being his wife I'm still not even sure I know what that entails. Vulcans are so _damn_ secretive."

"Not to mention, Spock could've changed quite a bit since you last saw him," Aria pipes up, and Nyota nods in agreement.

"That's true."

Silence falls between them for a moment as Nyota fights the urge to tell Aria about wanting to contact Spock again. She is momentarily afraid of how Aria could react considering she considers herself to be a fiercely independent woman. Finally she decides that it's safer to tell Aria now rather than in person, so she opens her mouth to speak.

"I almost called him today."

As Nyota shrinks slightly, Aria puffs up with indignation, her eyes flashing. "Spock? Why? You don't even know where he is!"

"I don't know, Aria, I don't know why I do anything nowadays. I mean, why do I still have dinner with Sarek when I know I'll never have familial ties with him? Why am I still on this inhospitable planet when I could be at home? None of it makes sense."

Uhura sags slightly, defeated, and looks down at her hands again, splaying them in her lap. Aria stares at her thoughtfully for a minute, giving her friend time to think.

"Nyota, listen to me," Aria suddenly becomes very serious, her eyes boring into her friend's. "What if all of this means that it _is_ time for you to go home?


	26. A Logical Surprise

**Authoress' Note:** People have been asking in their reviews whether this story is going to end up as a K/S fic. I'm not sure if I already answered this somewhere, but no. K/S can be good, but not for this fic. What I'm going for is loyalty and deep friendship between the two. Make of that what you will. You are at your own discretion as to how much you read into their actions, words, etc.

**A Logical Surprise**

Uhura fumbles with the keypad outside of her locked flat while attempting to pull off her work shoes. After failing to punch in the correct password for the third time she gives a frustrated groan and slams her fist against the wall. If there could be a worse time to be late, this is it. She still can't wrap her head around how she left all her clothes at home instead of bringing them to the office as she had planned and had somehow managed to forget to tell Velik to meet her there also.

Already halfway undressed and hoping that a random Vulcan would not walk around the corner, Uhura takes a deep breath to steady her self and pushes the buttons in on the keypad once more. Of all days to have trouble opening her door (a new one at that!) it has to be today. With a satisfying click the lock tumbles and the door slides open. Uhura slips inside, sighing with relief, and dumps her clothes by the door.

Immediately, Uhura becomes aware that something isn't right when the door closes behind her. The light to her bedroom is on at the end of the corridor. Hastily, she pulls the pencil skirt she was wearing back up around her waist, leaving the blouse unbuttoned and makes her way cautiously down the hall. She pauses halfway, listening. Silence greets her ears and unnerves her all the more.

"Velik?" she calls out hoping that if anyone is there it will be him.

"Nyota, you have arrived. I was hoping I would be able to meet you at the embassy," Velik says, his oval shaped face with its untidy mop of dark hair appears around the corner, one eyebrow raised in the usual Vulcan expression of surprise.

Uhura gapes open mouthed, buttoning up her shirt mechanically while staring at her Vulcan friend all the while.

"How did you-?"

"How did I get in here? You gave me the password remember? I thought perhaps, knowing that you had forgotten your clothes for the function this evening, I would bring them to you. Unfortunately, miscommunication seems to have had its way with us," Velik says this quite calmly, and with an air of indifference, "Nyota, do you usually go to work in a state of undress? That seems highly unprofessional."

Still shocked at the sight of Velik in her bedroom, her clothes draped over his arm, Uhura nods her head without thinking. Upon seeing what could be considered shock register upon her friend's face she hastily amends herself by saying, "What? Oh, no, of course not! It's been a long day."

Velik hands her the clothes and tucks his hands into the wide sleeves of his formal tunic comfortably. Nyota shakes her head, a smile on her lips, as she slips behind the screen of the bathroom door and out of Velik's sight.

"You could have sent a message to my PADD you know," she calls, "I would've been a lot less worried. I also would have taken more care as to the state of my dress, or undress that is."

"It was not my intention to worry you, Nyota," Velik answers in his usual logical Vulcan manner, "I merely thought it more time consuming to send a message rather than meet you directly. As you know, we are already ten of your Earth minutes late. I know very well of the importance of punctuality to Humans, as it is an important concept to my people as well."

"Yes, Velik, thank you. I was rather hoping you wouldn't be lecturing me tonight."

"Not lecturing, just merely reminding."

Uhura smoothes down her peach coloured dress, one she had sent from Earth for the occasion, and finishes pulling her hair up and into place. Stepping out of the bathroom, she twirls around on the spot, as she once did for Spock so long ago, smiling radiantly at the young Vulcan standing before you. She can see a twinkling in his eyes as he looks her up and down, a look that Uhura has not been accustomed to seeing in her friend. She hooks her arm through his as they make their way down the corridor.

"Well then, what do you think?" she asks as they step out into the hot and heavy night air.

He looks at her quizzically, one eyebrow raised again. "About you?"

"Who else, silly?" she asks, cuffing him lightly on the shoulder, an act of camaraderie that he still does not quite understand.

"I believe," he says slowly, pondering each word carefully, "If my knowledge of what Humans term beautiful is correct then you shall be the envy of all tonight."

For that, Velik allows Uhura to stand on tiptoe and give him a friendly kiss on the cheek. She straightens the front of his tunic and tousles his hair a bit.

"May I say," she says as they make their way toward the waiting hover car, "you don't look half bad yourself."

---

"Here she is at last! The life of the party has arrived!" cries Mr. Maddock, Uhura's superior and the head of the embassy's internal affairs office. "We were beginning to wonder if you were going to show at all!"

Uhura blushes slightly as all eyes in the crowded room alight on her and Velik. Mr. Maddock nudges her in the shoulder, his eyebrows waggling up and down in a suggestive sort of way.

"I hope we didn't keep you from anything," he says, nodding pointedly at Velik, who either does not understand the meaning of the jest or refuses to show that he does. A few members of the company laugh, and Uhura tries to laugh with them. Quickly, she and her Vulcan friend slip through the crowd in search of Aria. Her spontaneous arrival already forgotten, most of the attendees have gone back to their drinks, dancing, and small talk.

Aria is on the far side of the room, sipping at some bubbling champagne, Earth imported, and watching the dancers in the middle of the floor dejectedly. As soon as she spots Uhura she grins broadly, sets down her glass on a nearby table, and pushes through the crowd to embrace her friend. The two hold on to each other for several minutes.

"God, I thought you two would never get here!" she says, glancing at Velik standing behind Uhura, "This whole thing has been ridiculously boring. So much for a farewell bash of epic proportions."

She shrugs and takes another champagne glass from a passing waiter. Uhura snags one for her self also and downs the entire draught in a few gulps.

"Trust me, Aria, I definitely didn't want this. It was all Maddock's idea, and you can always trust him to throw a lame party."

"Hey, I have an idea," Aria says, leaning in closer to Uhura so that only she can hear. "After the toasting and all that, why don't we ditch this place and go back to my flat? We can get wasted, talk, throw our own dance party, whatever you want."

Lowering her voice even more Uhura replies, "That sounds awesome. Do you think Velik will come along? I think he only came because we Humans were engaging in 'well-mannered frivolity', as he put it. I don't know what he'd say about your plans."

Aria rolls her eyes, and flaps her hands at Uhura to push her away. "Well let's stop standing her gawking at each other at least and ask the poor fellow!"

Uhura turns, spots Velik looking completely out of place, and sidles up to him quickly.

"Okay, so change of plans," she begins, and one of the Vulcan's eyebrows shoots up immediately, "Aria and I wanna go back to her place after the toasts are done. Would you like to come with us?"

"If my presence would make your last evening here more enjoyable then I see no reason why I should not go with you."

"Yes, yes, it does," Aria pipes up excitedly.

Velik fixes Uhura's wayward friend with a piercing, but not unkind stare, and nods. "Since the very idea of it seems to bring you so much joy, Aria, it would be illogical for me to refuse."

**Authoress' Note: **Sorry for the abrupt ending. This chapter was getting really, really long so I decided to cut it in two. Don't forget to review!


	27. All Things Revealed

**All Things Revealed**

"And so, Nyota, we commend you for all of your hard work in helping to reestablish the Vulcan colonists, and we would like to present you with a pin to commemorate your time here. Thank you, and as our native Vulcans would say, live long and prosper."

Mr. Maddock pins the medal to the front of Uhura's dress and kisses her boisterously on both cheeks as the company erupts in a cacophony of applause. Uhura blushes and bows her head under the weight of their praise, and then lifts her eyes to meet her friends and colleagues once more as Mr. Maddock takes his seat beside her. She folds her hands neatly in front of her, envisioning first what she will say to such wonderful people.

"I will have it known that I gave up a dream to be here before all of you tonight. A little over two years ago when Nero unleashed his wrath against the Vulcan home world the _Enterprise_, newly commissioned, was called to arms. I served aboard her for a short time, much too short to fulfill my heart's desire. "

"When I made a conscious decision to take my leave of the _Enterprise_ and perform my duties as a communications officer here I thought at first that I had made a mistake. The land was dry and bare, and the people were a sad lot ravaged by a grief and shock that could not be expressed. I did not think it possible to create a new life in this place, to bring together a mourning people and give them a new world."

"In hindsight, I should have had more faith, not only in the Vulcan people, but also in myself. Though born from unanticipated and unfortunate circumstances, my time here has been the experience of a lifetime. Nowhere else in the universe could my studies of language flourish as much as they have here. I have learned so much from all of you, not only about language, but also about kindness, generosity, friendship, and love. All these emotions I never expected to find amongst a people known for being devoid of them."

"So, thank you for all the help and encouragement you have given me. Thank you for teaching me and helping me to grow. I hope I will be able to take all the gifts you have given me back to our home, Earth, and use them in benefit of our own people. Until we meet again, each and every one of you, live long and prosper."

There is a round of applause smattered with Vulcan salutes and cries of "peace and long life". Farther down the table, Aria wipes her eyes on her napkin while Velik, beside her, claps as stoically as usual. As the applause dies down and people begin standing up to continue the party, Uhura nods at her friends discreetly from across the table. It is time for them to go.

She slips through the crowd almost unnoticed, stopping only a few times to receive congratulatory remarks and many handshakes. She nods her head and smiles to each person in turn and finally manages to extricate herself from a particularly talkative colleague in order to slip through the back door unnoticed. Velik and Aria are already waiting for her, and they walk quickly down the empty and darkened corridor in silence. Uhura and Aria both breathe an audible sigh of relief upon reaching the outside of the embassy building unnoticed, while Velik merely gazes upward pensively at one of the two moons hanging in the sky, completely unconcerned with their escape. Aria rounds on Uhura, who has taken off her heels and is busy loosing all the pins from her hair so that it falls about her shoulders in a wave.

"What a knockout of a speech!" she cries dramatically, pretending to wipe at imaginary tears once more. "I only hope I can say something that good when I have to get up and give one myself."

"No doubt you, my dear, will faint away with nerves and have to be revived by some beautiful Vulcan prince," Uhura says slyly.

Aria whacks her in the arm with her own shoes but laughs anyway.

"You're probably right," she says, sighing, "At any rate, I'll be sure to make a fool of myself."

Hearing the hint of sadness in her friend's voice, Uhura comes up beside Aria and puts an arm around her shoulder. Velik, who has remained silent for the entire conversation, decides to take the quiet moment to speak up.

"Unfortunately, Aria, if she should faint, will have to find some other means to revive herself as there are no Vulcan princes."

Silence follows this statement, and then Aria and Uhura burst into laughter, doubling up as they continue walking toward the darkened car park. Uhura grasps at a stitch building her side, and breathes deeply, as Aria wipes real tears from her eyes.

"I think Aria was hoping you would be willing to revive her yourself, Velik," Uhura suggests, and quickly skips away and out of her friend's reach.

"Nyota!"

Pulling Velik by the hand toward her parked hover car, Uhura waves a hand at Aria who cannot seem to wipe the shocked expression off of her face.

"Hey! Wait a minute!"

Uhura jumps into the driver's seat and blows a kiss to her friend.

"We'll meet you at your flat in a few minutes, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever," Aria responds grumpily, and turns on her heel, walking in the direction of her own hover car.

Shutting the car door, Uhura shrugs at Velik who is eyeing her in an almost wary way.

"Don't worry about her," she says, seeing Velik's look, "She'll be over it by the time we make it to her flat. It was all a joke anyway."

Velik blinks once, turns off the radio that has come on automatically, and looks out the window.

"I have never understood the reasoning behind Human pranks and jokes, Nyota," he says.

Nyota pats him gently on the arm as the hover car rises into the air a few feet. "I have failed you in that respect, Velik. I am truly sorry."

The young tousle haired Vulcan raises an eyebrow, and Uhura chuckles to herself as they fly off into the night in the direction of Aria's apartment complex. Minutes later, they arrive to find that somehow Aria has managed to beat them home. She opens the door, having changed back into her Vulcan tunic pyjamas, holding several empty wine glasses in one hand and balancing a wine bottle in the other.

"You look comfortable," Uhura states, stepping inside the dimly lit room, Velik following along behind her, "Any chance you've got some more of those tunics."

"You know I do," Aria says, grinning broadly, and setting the glasses and bottle onto the nearest side table. She comes back minutes later, a blue tunic with an oval scoop neck in hand, quite the opposite of her own.

Uhura slips into the bathroom to change, folding her dress neatly by the door and setting her shoes on top. The tunic barely comes halfway down her thigh, but it is comfortable and much more cool than her dress in such a hot atmosphere. When she exits the bathroom minutes later, Aria has already poured drinks for the two of them and is routing around in the kitchen for something nonalcoholic that Velik will be willing to drink.

Uhura runs through the music available on Aria's wall display and chooses a mix of pop and rock songs popular on Earth. Aria comes back in carrying a glass of some kind of yellow-orange liquid that looks remotely like orange juice but can't really be. She hands it to Velik, who nods at her gratefully and takes a sip. Meanwhile, Uhura downs her first glass of wine, and sets the glass to the side, vowing not to drink anymore so that she can stay awake.

She hops up from the love seat with renewed energy and pulls Aria up from the opposite couch. They spend the next half hour dancing around the room, head banging, laughing, and trying to get Velik to join them. He remains as stoic as ever and sits on the couch with his eyes closed as though the loud music gives him a headache.

Two hours later, after Aria has managed to polish off over three-fourths of the wine bottle by herself, she lies curled up on the couch next to Velik who is also slumped over in sleep. Uhura exits the bathroom and seeing her sleeping friends, makes her way out to the balcony. The blanket of night surrounding her is thick and silent, punctuated by the nighttime sounds of native insects much like the cicadas of Earth. Both of Vulcan II's moons are high in the sky, their wane light reflected in the few lights visible throughout the growing city.

Uhura has never realised just how different Vulcan is from her home world. At home she will not be able to see the stars in the heavens like she can in this place, and for some reason this saddens her more than anything else about leaving. In the distance, upon a hill, ShiKahr rises up, sillouhetted against the horizon. Uhura stares at it for a few minutes, thinking of Sarek all alone there. The door behind her suddenly slides open, and she turns to find Velik standing in the doorway.

"I did not mean to disturb you, Nyota," he immediately apologises, but Uhura brushes the apology away with her hand.

"It's all right. I thought you were asleep."

"No, I was merely meditating."

Uhura nods and looks back out toward the skyline of Vulcan. Velik remains next to her, forever her silent and watchful companion. His breathing is another constant in the deep silence, and it comforts her as she matches each inhalation and exhalation of breath with her own.

"Velik, can I ask you something?"

"Anything, Nyota."

"Why are you friends with me? I mean, why are you friends with any Human? So many of your people are disgusted by our ways and our emotional habits."

His dark eyes meet hers, and within them she can see understanding and acceptance. His voice is like velvet when he speaks, "My people owe much to the Terran people who came to our aid in our time of need. I believe it is of my own interest to learn from and become acquainted with those of your species who offer insight into your nature. I only wish to understand your people better, and thus find it in my heart to love them as I love my own."

Uhura shakes her head, "You speak of love, Velik. I didn't even think you capable of admitting such an emotion."

"We control our emotion, Nyota, but we are not devoid of them. Some of my people would be ashamed of feeling any type of friendship toward a Human, but they are prejudiced and severely blind-sighted by this. I can not live in such a way when I work so closely with yourself and others of your kind."

"Velik, you have taught me much about Vulcans. I very much appreciate the friendship you have bestowed upon me," Uhura says, placing her hand on his arm gently before taking it away, not wishing to make him uncomfortable. She can feel him swell with pride next to her, though he does not show it. He looks down on her, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"The very same to you, Nyota."

Uhura smiles back at him warmly, despite the fact that something at the back of her mind is clawing its way to the surface, longing to be free of her. The smile slips from her face suddenly, and she sits down hard in one of the patio chairs gracing the balcony. Seeing her distress, Velik sits down next to her, his eyebrows drawn together in a universal look of concern.

"You are troubled by something?" he asks. She can only nod in response; unsure of how to ask him something she should have inquired about a long time ago.

"Do you know anything about the repopulation programme here?" she asks cautiously, keeping her focus ahead of her.

"Yes, I am aware of it's existence and what is expected of each Vulcan in regards to it," Velik says, and she, with her trained ear, can hear a hint of wariness in his voice as though he is afraid he will give away too much information to this foreigner in his world. "Is this the subject that is causing you discomfort? I would have you speak your mind if that should ease your distress."

"I just don't understand why the population even needs monitoring," she says, frustration laced in the edges of her voice, "I mean, I realise that the population is at the lowest it has been since the time of Surak, but I feel like there's more to it, as though there's some purpose being kept from not only me, but the embassy. I've asked Sarek the very same, but he refuses to give an answer. I was hoping you would be able to . . ."

Velik remains silent, his face turned away from Uhura's so that she cannot see his eyes or his expression. She has no way of knowing whether she has offended him in some way by asking such a question. She remembers suddenly the term Sarek had used when they had discussed Spock and his part in the plan. Not wanting to offend one of her few Vulcan friends, Uhura teeters on the precipice of finally understanding and being kept in the dark.

Without a second thought for the consequences she asks, "Does Vulcan biology have anything to do with it?"

Velik stiffens beside her and stands up quickly as though he has been burned. Uhura watches him, surprised by his sudden movement, as he rests his arms against the balcony railing, his back turned to her.

"Velik?"

"I do not know where you first learned that term," he says gruffly, his voice carried back to her on the light wind, "but I admit to being most reluctant in discussing it with you. You shall find that most Vulcans are unwilling to discuss that particular subject with other worlders."

"Please, tell me," Uhura says, her eyes boring into Velik's back as though that will reveal the answer to her, "You know of the relationship I had with Spock. This plan is why we can't be together. At least, that's what Spock said, and he didn't elaborate. If something is being kept a secret, I would like to know. I believe I have that right."

Velik gives an audible sigh; one of the few Uhura has ever heard him utter. "What do you know of biology?" he asks blandly, his voice completely monotone.

"Sex?" she offers quietly, shrugging even though he can't see it.

Velik gives no outward appearance of discomfort or distaste in her choice of vocabulary but instead plows on.

"Yes, that is it, after a fashion," he continues, "More specifically it refers to the Vulcan time of mating, the pon farr. During this time the Vulcan male fulfills one objective: taking a mate, usually the one he has been bonded to. It is a particularly dangerous time for Vulcans as they are often unable to control their own strength and actions."

Uhura stares, unblinking at Velik's back throughout his speech. When he pauses she takes the heavy silence to ask a question, "What happens if a Vulcan does not have a mate?"

"He usually dies."

Uhura grimaces at the finality in Velik's voice as he turns back toward her. He notices her facial expression and raises an eyebrow.

"That is one of the purposes of the programme, to bond all suitable Vulcans so that when the pon farr sets upon them, they will not be left alone. No one can be spared during this time."

Uhura shakes her head in disbelief and motions for Velik to sit next to her once more. He does so hesitantly as though the newfound knowledge he has given her has created an invisible boundary between them.

"I'm still not sure I completely understand, but I must thank you for telling me. It gives me much comfort to know that it is not just because I am Human that I cannot be with Spock."

Velik allows her to hold his hand in her own for a moment, before he sets her hand gently in her lap and tucks his own into the folds of his tunic.

"There will be someone for you yet, Nyota, do not lose heart."

Uhura smiles, ducking her head so that he cannot see the tears welling in her eyes, and imagines Spock's face before her own, always out of reach.

"And that coming from a Vulcan," she says with a dry laugh that can hardly conceal with sob welling in her throat. "Thank you, Velik. I'm going to miss you dearly."

"And I you."

**Authoress' Note: **Phew, that was a long chappie! I had great fun writing that one, and I really, really hope you will enjoy this moment between Velik and Uhura. I'm glad no one has died after hearing that this will not be a K/S fic. All of you took that quite well. :P To those of you who don't like reading about Uhura, don't you worry; Spock is going to take up most of the next chapter.


	28. Sands of Time

**Authoress' Note: **I'm gonna warn you right away that some people are not going to like this chapter in the slightest. Some of you might even quit reading after this point, while others of you might scoff and rant and rave but still find it in your hearts to continue on. There are really only a few more chapters to go anyway. So, now that I've all set you up for hating me, please continue, and enjoy your read. :) Don't forget to review when you're done!

**Sands of Time**

Spock feels the burning of eyes upon the back of his head and neck as he leans in close to the glass windows of the shuttlecraft making its descent from space dock. He ignores the gawking and staring mix of Humans, Vulcans, and other space faring creatures in pursuit of looking out the window to better take in the new sights that his new home world affords him. It has been just past 2 years since he last visited this place with the _Enterprise_ and her new captain in tow. He immediately notes how different the surface of the planet is.

Where there were once hundreds of thousands of tents stretching out over red desert sands, there are now tall stalactite and stalagmite like buildings cloistered together at the centre of a teeming city from which spreads smaller flat-roofed houses and residential buildings. He notices the Vulcan High Council's building as well as the Terran Embassy and the Halls of Ancient Thought and Memory. He looks past all of this, however, in search of one particular building. As the shuttlecraft descends further it finally comes into view sending shivers up and down Spock's spine.

Farther away from the city rest several ancestral homes, rebuilt to pay homage to their counterparts on Vulcan. Spock immediately recognises ShiKahr above the rest, barely visible from its place upon the outcropping of a rocky hill. He is even sure, if he squints, that he can see the mountains in the distance where he is sure that at their foot there may be found his family's ancient ceremonial grounds set aside for the purposes of betrothal and marriage.

The shuttlecraft lands with a slight _thump_ against the landing pad, and Spock unbuckles his harness hastily, ready to exit the craft without a moments delay. As soon as the doors are opened to the front, he swiftly slips away and out of sight as others around him gather their belongings. He hails a hover cab waiting outside the terminal after showing his papers to several stern-looking Vulcan officials in the customs house. With one glance at the name on his passport they shepherd him along as though he were the saviour of the Vulcan people, no less than royalty.

Unused to such treatment and utterly unnerved by it, Spock slides into the backseat of the hover cab and does not meet his driver's eyes. The driver slams the front door shut behind him and turns in his seat to look at Spock. He is as Human as that particular race comes and seems unaware of who Spock is, much to his private relief.

"To ShiKahr please," he commands and settles back into the seat in order to have a better view of the city as they pass through. The cab revs and floats up into the air several feet before speeding off along the road. Buildings and Vulcans dressed in tunics and gowns with floating headscarves whiz by until they leave the towering city behind and pass the residential district. There are hundreds upon hundreds of clay and rock crafted houses, some sporting terraces and gardens teeming with life. He notices that one house they pass has a rose garden, and he immediately thinks of his mother, wondering if his father bothered at all to replace her garden at ShiKahr.

Soon they leave even these buildings behind and travel out into the open desert toward the outcropping of rock Spock first spotted while on board the shuttlecraft. Spock cranes his neck slightly to see, and suddenly his father's ancestral home materialises into view holding, Spock thinks, the same glory and splendour it once had those few years ago. Hastily, Spock pays the driver in Federation credits and begins his climb up the many steps to the imposing double door. He knocks as loudly as he can wondering if anyone is even at home considering he had not contacted his father to say he would be arriving.

The door clicks open seconds later, however, and a young woman who Spock does not recognize stands before him. She is not wearing the colours or tunic of his father's house, and so Spock assumes that she must work as a housekeeper of sorts, something that had not been needed when his mother was around. Silently, with her eyes cast down out of respect, the young woman leads him down the corridor to a set of double doors. She knocks, opens one side quietly, and says, "Someone is here to see you, _Xcha'ala'at_"

Spock barely hears the murmur of a reply before he is ushered into the room by the invitation of the open door. Upon entering he bows his head toward his father who stands up, his face impassive, yet his eyes alight with wonder and surprise. He moves toward Spock mechanically, unblinking, his eyes fixed upon his son's.

Words seem to tumble from his mouth of their own accord. "My son," he says quietly, as though not quite sure if it really is his Spock standing so tall and serene before him.

"Yes, I am here, Father."

"I was not expecting you. Why did you not contact me before your arrival?"

"I did not wish to cause a disturbance," Spock says, meaning that he did not want any fanfare that would include meeting with the High Council or family elders.

Sarek seems to understand the meaning behind his simple answer and accepts it for what it is. He gestures for Spock to sit down and sits opposite of him as the young woman from earlier brings in a tray of spiced tea. She pours as they sit in silence and backs out of the room without a word, taking the tray with her again.

Spock watches his father as he sips at his tea looking much older, grayer, and thinner than he remembers him ever looking before his mother died. His eyes, devoid of excitement and life once more, stare at nothing in particular. He shakes his head slightly, startling himself from his reverie, and fixes his son with his gaze.

"Forgive me, Spock," he begins, his voice business-like and serious, " Would you explain to me why you are here? I thought you would have returned to Starfleet by now."

"My mission with Admiral Pike on Talos IV is indeed over, but I thought it would be more productive for me to come back here before embarking on another deep space mission that may take me far from home."

"You know you will need to meet with the High Council or T'Pau at the very least. They are keen to know any information on when you may return permanently to take up your marriage duties. As you may know, the repopulation programme will be put into effect soon enough. Already data has been compiled on those Vulcans most suitable to be bonded to one another."

Spock ponders this new information for a minute before responding carefully. "Do you know if a bondmate has been chosen for me yet?"

Sarek nods. " I have not seen her myself, but I know that if you go to the Council they will perform the bonding ceremony as soon as you may like. They are keen to have everyone properly bonded before biology has its own way with the system."

"I understand you, Father, though I must remind you that no Vulcan knows when biology will set in. I will undertake the bonding if she is so willing herself, but only under the circumstance of her knowing my duty to Starfleet and its priority right now."

"She has already been made aware of this fact I believe. It has been a topic of much debate. We may only hope that if biology should be the reasoning behind your return it occur after you have fulfilled the majority of your mission with Starfleet."

Spock nods, his mind captured by this unknown Vulcan woman who will someday be his wife. Has he seen her before? What is her name? Question after question race through his mind, and suddenly he finds himself thinking of Uhura.

"Father, is Nyota still on Vulcan?"

Sarek shakes his head, "No, my son. She left the planet only days ago to return to Earth. Perhaps she has a mind to join the crew of the _Enterprise_ once more."

"Yes, perhaps."

Spock can only allow the half-Human part of himself to hope.

---

Spock's first impression of his wife-to-be is that she does not look how he expected. He concludes that such an illogical impression was made only due to the fact that she is the complete opposite of T'Pring, one of the few Vulcan women he has had contact with over the course of his short adult life.

The day seems to be one of surprises for Spock and serves to remind him of how far he has drifted from his people during his time at Starfleet. Having been away for some time has changed him more than he thought possible. Growing up in the household of Lady Amanda and spending time with Uhura has conditioned him to be used to Terran words and names. When his betrothed is introduced to him as T'Loriah he has to remind himself that all Vulcan women wishing to honour the T'Plana-Hath, the matron of Vulcan philosophy, name their daughters with a T followed by an apostrophe. The name seems foreign to him, and he wonders if it will ever roll of his tongue so easily as Nyota's once did.

There is some irony to T'Loriah's name, Spock notes, for though it means light, she herself does not exude such fairness. Of course, her skin is as pale and green-tinged as every other Vulcan, but it is her dark hair, swept back over her shoulders and held in place by a scarf wrapped and tied under her hair at the nape of her neck, and her shining dark eyes that seem to suck light into themselves that is ironic.

She is modest in every sense of the word as she stands with her parents before Spock and Sarek with her eyes downcast and her hands folded neatly in front of the exquisite floor length gown she wears. For the first time in a long while Spock has shed his Starfleet uniform and dressed himself in a long sleeved tunic and trousers bearing a complicated pattern of his father's ancestral crest within the weave of the fabric.

As usual, owing to the Vulcan sense of time and punctuality, there is time still to be had before the ceremony's scheduled beginning. Meaning to pass the time in conversation, Spock turns to Sarek to ask him a question and finds that he has moved in the direction of T'Loriah's parents to strike up a conversation, leaving Spock to stand alone, with his arms clasped behind his back, staring at the young Vulcan woman staring straight back at him unashamedly.

He takes a few steps toward her, afraid of how much she knows about him since he hardly knows anything about her. She bows her head as he nears and then lifts her eyes to meet his when he stops in front of her.

"It is good to meet you, Spock," she says, and he is secretly relieved to hear none of the arrogance and vanity in her voice that T'Pring once possessed. Realising he has been silent for too long, because T'Loriah is gazing at him intently, he clears his throat to speak.

"Yes, well met, T'Loriah. I trust you are well?"

She raises one eyebrow at him, an action that reminds him painfully of Uhura and fixes him with an even gaze. If he knew her better he would swear that a smile was tugging at the corners of her lips.

"If I did not know you to be half-Human, Spock, I believe I would think you a very odd Vulcan for asking such a question," she says, smiling at him with those dark eyes of hers. He is intrigued.

Never before has he met a Vulcan so unlike the stifling men and women of the old Vulcan High Command or the new Council. To use one of the good Dr. McCoy's favourite phrases, Spock believes he could refer to her as a "breath of fresh air". He studies her closely. She seems completely content with their silence and makes no move to break it. He wonders if she is evaluating him as well.

Seeing the curious look in Spock's eyes T'Loriah takes up the volumes of her dress and sits down, motioning for Spock to sit next to her, although not so close as to be disgraceful. He does so, unclasping his hands, and setting them stiffly on his knees. He has never felt so doubtful and unsure of himself as he does sitting next to her. Their future together stretches out before him as a blank slate clouded in uncertainty. She seems to sense this as well.

"What is it like being the only Vulcan in Starfleet?" she asks.

"Lonely," he admits quietly, and then wishes he could take it back.

She barely acknowledges his confession, but seems to urge him to continue with the way she looks at him.

"Do not misunderstand me," he corrects himself hastily, "Starfleet is a career, and I know my colleagues well. I am comfortable around them. However, it is jarring to come back and realise how little I know of my own culture anymore. If it were not for this repopulation programme . . ."

He cuts himself off abruptly before straying into territory he shouldn't be straying toward. T'Loriah doesn't blink however and seems to know immediately what he meant to stay."

"You wouldn't be here," she finishes for him, a bitterness curdling the edge of her voice. "I thought you, of all our people, would know the meaning of sacrifice. We all have to do it, or is that something they don't teach you at Starfleet?"

Spock puts up his hand to stop her, and she closes her mouth firmly, setting it in a straight line.

"I did not mean to offend you in any way. That is no way to build a relationship."

"And what do you know of building relationships?" she hisses, her voice hard and unforgiving.

Uhura materialises in his mind's eye. He can still see her in that black dress and precarious heels, her ponytail swinging with the movement of her lithe body. It sends shivers up his spine at the thought. He must force himself to return to the present.

"There was a Terran woman, Uhura. She and I were on the _Enterprise_ together, and I taught her at one time. . ."

T'Loriah's face softens slightly at the change in his voice and demeanour. Suddenly, the High Priestess arrives, right on the hour. The two families file into the chamber where the priestess has begun to light incense in nooks set into the walls. The two young Vulcans kneel at the altar, placing their hands in each other's. Her hand is small and smooth in his, and Spock is only vaguely aware of his father's gaze on his back.

"Do you love her?"

The words escape T'Loriah's lips like a sigh, carried to him on a sudden draft of wind that washes over the two of them. He glances at her and finds her staring at him intently, the brightness of flighty, winged hope within her eyes.

"Yes," he whispers back, his mouth barely moving. He looks back at her and is surprised to see that the gleam radiating from within her has not been snuffed out. She squeezes his hand gently and speaks quickly as the High Priestess moves to take her place before their assembly.

"I only wish that in time you will love me half as much as you love her."

Spock is silent, his head bowed. So the ceremony begins, a distant echo from a distant life on a destroyed planet from long ago. Each binding vow resounds across the sands of time as though the two of them, man and woman, are being pulled back to the time of Surak.

"_Parted and never parted. Never and always touching and touched."_

"_Parted and never parted. Never and always touching and touched."_

"_Parted and never parted. Never and always touching and touched."_

**Authoress' Note:** Well, I suppose I sort of left it open to interpretation. *shrug* Go on then, hate me. I don't mind it as long as you review. :P


	29. Breaking Monotony

**Authoress' Note:** I have to admit that I was absolutely terrified of reading your reviews. Don't ask me why. I think it's some psychological thing I have against constructive criticism. I'm afraid people really are going to hate what I write. I should have more faith in all of you though. I didn't get one complaint, although I have to admit I'm not very good at reading sarcasm over the Internet, so perhaps some of you meant to be mean, but it didn't come across that way. *shrug* I don't know. Anyway, enjoy Kirk & McCoy and some interesting situations!

**Breaking Monotony**

Dr. McCoy shakes his head as he reads the cadet's charts on the wall screen as the young woman frets nervously, wringing her hands together as she lies on the bio bed. McCoy glances at her, and she bites her lip perhaps wondering what he is thinking. He shakes his head again and switches off the screen. She sits up slowly, eyeing him cautiously, her eyes wide. _God, she's so young_, is all McCoy can think to himself as he prepares to make an announcement that will change her life. At the same time he's fuming over the fact that people, even in this century, still don't know how to protect themselves properly.

"No STDs," he says. The cadet actually gives an audible sigh of relief, but before she can jump off the bio bed and exit the room the doctor reveals the other half of the diagnoses, "You are pregnant though. About seven weeks along. You wanna call the father?"

He says all this in a rather rushed way so that the young woman stares at him for a moment as though she hasn't understood a thing he just said. Just when he's about to repeat him self she crumples into hysterics, sobbing loudly, and McCoy isn't half surprised. He guides her to the bio bed once again where she curls up into the fetal position as though he's just delivered the news that she's going to die. He calls for a nurse then, and as one is running in with a light sedative, he slips out of the exit.

Five minutes later he's already looking at a new case after gazing bleakly at the myriad of Starfleet staff and students in the waiting room. He can't believe that he has to deal with this kind of stuff. In some ways it's insulting that he's been reduced down to treating burns, cuts, and colds of a hardly sinister nature while wondering about the merits of sex education, that seem to have failed quite a few of his patients. The cadet, who is finally asleep, isn't the first he's had to deal with, and nor will she be the last.

The mass of people in the waiting room finally thins out several hours later when all McCoy wants to do is have a drink and go to bed. That's how he usually feels at the end of any clinic day. There's not even one nurse in the whole damn place with a sense of humour to keep him sane. God, he can't wait to see Nurse Chapel again. There's a woman that can make him laugh.

McCoy's hanging up his coat for the day, his mind lost in thought, when his PADD gives a muffled beep from inside his pocket. Pulling it out, he looks at the screen where a colour-coded calendar is flashing at him. He clicks on the current date and reads the message that takes the place of the calendar.

**ENTERPRISE scheduled to arrive at space dock. Meet Kirk at hangar 12 at 15:00.**

The doctor glances at the astronomical clock on the wall that reads just past 15:00 and smacks his forehead with his palm. It'll take him a good fifteen minutes to reach hangar 12, and that's if he runs the whole way. Throwing his coat onto the rack, he rushes out of the clinic and sprints a full nine blocks to hangar twelve. He spots Kirk outside the entrance still sporting his black teaching uniform. McCoy doubles over, his sides heaving, as he sucks in as much air as he can.

"Sorry I'm late, Jim," he says through gasps, "Did he arrive already?"

Kirk shakes his head, and McCoy straightens up his breathing instantly normal.

"What do you mean 'no'?"

"The shuttlecraft carrying personnel from the _Enterprise_ came in about a quarter of an hour ago, but Spock wasn't on it. I saw Christine Chapel and Admiral Pike, but no Spock, so I caught up with the Admiral and asked him about it. He said that they dropped Spock off on the new Vulcan planet for 'reasons unstated'. Whatever that means."

McCoy ponders this new twist in events for a moment, and then his eyes widen in realisation.

"Oh shit."

"What? What do you know?"

"Spock, he went back to Vulcan, 'cause he's getting hitched to his Vulcan wife or whatever. I know it!" McCoy says quickly with a note of triumph in his voice.

Kirk stares at him, dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open momentarily as he takes this new bit of information in. He's not even sure he can imagine anyone getting married to Spock, not even Uhura.

"Nah, Bones," he says finally, "He's probably just visiting his dad or something."

"Yeah, sure. That's what he wants you to think," McCoy drawls, raising one eyebrow for emphasis. "Next thing you know he'll want us to baby-sit his devil-eared kids."

"Oh God," Kirk says, a look of horror on his face, "I don't even want to think about that!"

"Well, fine. You don't have to," McCoy says, "Let's go get a drink and call it a day instead. Okay?"

"No, I have a better idea. Let's go see Admiral Pike. I want my _Enterprise_ back as soon as possible. I'm ready to get out of this joint, aren't you?"

McCoy shrugs, and Kirk gives him a look that says are-you-kidding-me?

"Oh, all right. What the hell."

It takes them an hour to find the Admiral after taking a detour around the entire Starfleet campus and asking every higher up personnel that they could find. Finally, a secretary at the tactical building points them in the right direction, and they catch Pike just as he is exiting a meeting with Starfleet Command officials. He looks tired and much older than Kirk remembers him, even before Nero's attack, but he smiles when he sees the young captain and shakes his hand.

They go out to the nearest bar as soon as Admiral Pike hangs up his uniform for the day. All the while, Kirk quizzes him on every aspect of the _Enterprise's_ functioning and health. To stop the eager captain, Pike holds up a hand good-naturedly. Kirk shuts his mouth instantly, listening intently, his drink untouched.

"Well Kirk, I think you're in luck. This last mission was such a success that Starfleet Command is willing to give you control of the _Enterprise_ for a five year mission in deep space. There'll be an official briefing on it in about a week, but I didn't see the harm in telling you about it now. To placate you if anything," the Admiral says as he takes a sip of his drink, a twinkle in his eye.

"Bullshit!"

McCoy chokes on his drink, but Kirk doesn't notice.

"A five year mission?" he asks, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Yes, sir. You'll get to assemble your own crew and leave in about a week and a half."

Kirk can't even find the words to reply. He knew his waiting wouldn't be in vain; he knew that Starfleet Command would recognise his abilities and realise that it was his destiny to captain such a ship. Such an assignment couldn't have come soon enough.

**Authoress' Note:** LOL. That whole chapter almost felt like a House episode. :P


	30. From the Inside Out

**Authoress' Note:** Yay Spock and Uhura! The pairing that started it all! (In the context of this story, I mean. You know, I never did intend to write this much. ;) )

**From the Inside Out**

Spock's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly as he gazes up at the arrival and departure screen at Starbase 6's space dock terminal. Outside, several light years away he assumes, an ion storm is kicking up clouds of galactic dust making it impossible for any outgoing or incoming flights to Earth possible. It has been 2.16 hours since the vidscreen flashing in front of him has changed, a fact that irks Spock to no end. If he can be irked that is.

He assured Jim only four hours ago that he would make it in time for what the Captain termed "a special briefing". Unwilling to be sucked into Jim Kirk's usual vagueness, Spock has only allowed himself to dwell on the thought of this special briefing once since his departure from Vulcan II and subsequent arrival at Starbase 6. No doubt he will have several more hours to speculate _and_ form a hypothesis concerning the situation he will find himself in upon his arrival at Starfleet.

Spock tears his eyes away from the unchanging screen and scans the terminal methodically, glancing at each passerby in turn. He sweeps over a familiar sight and has to do a double take to make sure he has seen correctly. Satisfied that his eyes are not "playing tricks on him", he gathers up a thin suitcase suitable for space travel and moves determinedly toward his destination.

She is wearing her traditional red Starfleet uniform already, with its shining black knee-high boots, and her hair is swept familiarly up and out of her face into a long ponytail hanging down her back. Her skin looks slightly darker than he remembers it, and he decides it must be some affect of the Vulcan II sun. He slows his approach, listening intently. She's talking animatedly into a personal communicator, her hip jutted out and her free hand gesticulating wildly.

Spock watches her from a few yards away, and when she clicks the communicator shut, he makes his move. As he nears her, his heart beating calmly and surely, he stretches out his hand and places it gently on her shoulder. She jumps slightly, startled by the sudden contact and puts her hand to her heart, whipping her head around to look at him with surprise.

"Oh!" she exclaims, her eyes wide. She stares at his hand on her shoulder, and Spock removes it so as to not make her feel any more uncomfortable than their meeting will most likely be otherwise. Her breathing returns to normal after a few seconds as her eyes dart up and down, assessing him. He does the very same, clasping his hands behind his back in the usual stance he takes while studying something new and different, for she is an entirely new creature to him.

"I did not expect to see you here, Nyota. I have just visited my father on Vulcan II and was informed of your departure only days before. I assumed that you would reach Earth before me," he says casually.

Still flustered, Uhura stutters slightly as she responds, "Yes, I did leave Vulcan II several days ago, however I made several stops at a few other bases before coming here. You could say I was taking the 'scenic route'."

"You do not wish to return to Earth?" Spock asks, his slanted eyebrows drawn together.

Uhura shakes her head. "No, I miss Earth, I really do. This may seem like some silly emotional thing to you, but I was anxious about returning. I was anxious about seeing . . ."

"About seeing me?" he finishes for her, and she swallows hard, nodding. He blinks at her and cocks his head slightly, "I do not understand. Why should you be anxious about seeing me?"

Uhura gives an exasperated sigh, and I can see she is searching for the right words to convey her meaning. "Normally it's an awkward affair when people who have ended a relationship see each other again, especially after a long time. You can't just bury those feelings you had about the other person. Sometimes they rush up again, out of nowhere, and you can't push them back down."

She looks down at her bag sitting on the floor as silence falls between them. Spock for once has nothing to say, and he suddenly feels something he has never felt before. It isn't a feeling as much as it is an unidentified emotion long repressed into his subconscious. He reaches out and rests his hand gently on Uhura's shoulder again. She closes her eyes at the touch, and one of her hands slides over his comfortingly. He does not pull away for several minutes. It is the longest contact he has ever had with her.

"Nyota, I must assure you of something, if you will allow it," Spock says, and she turns toward him, intrigue in her eyes.

"Yes, go on."

"You must know that I have changed much since you last saw me two years ago. I am more experienced in dealing with Humans and more apt to their wants and needs. I have learned things about myself and about your race that I never thought possible. I believe in some way I have found my mother in myself," Spock pauses and holds up a hand as Uhura opens her mouth excitedly. "I know this was a wish of yours at one time, and I only wish I could have found it sooner if only to please you. I have been most lax in that respect, and I ask for your forgiveness. However, you must know that first and foremost, I am a Vulcan and have been steeped in Surak's teachings my entire life. Though I took pleasure from our time together I assure you that, all circumstances withstanding, I could not have followed you. I could not have given up the only part of myself I have left. My duty to my people is not just a biological one, it is a personal duty, a promise, that I will keep my people's culture alive."

Uhura blinks at him a few times, her mouth still wide open. Perhaps sensing her own impropriety she closes it slowly, and to Spock's silent dismay her eyes fill with tears. He had hoped she would understand. He makes a move toward her, but she shakes her head, pressing her fingers to her trembling lips.

"I'm not angry with you, Spock," she says, taking in a shuddering breath, her eyes fixed at the ceiling. "I just . . . I just don't think I know you anymore, you know? You've changed right before my eyes."

Spock's lips twitch upward, "And so have you, Nyota."

She laughs, hiccupping and smiling through her tears. She wipes her eyes with her wrists, carefully trying not to smudge the makeup she insists on wearing. Spock bends down and pulls a square of cloth from the outside pocket of his suitcase. Uhura chokes with laughter as she takes it in both hands and dabs at her eyes some more.

"What on Earth are you doing with a handkerchief, Spock?" she says shakily, "Vulcans don't cry last time I checked."

"However, Humans do, and I am doing my utmost to be prepared for every situation."

Uhura finishes wiping her eyes, hands the handkerchief back, and takes a sip of water from a bottle in her bag. Spock watches her carefully as she takes a deep breath to steady herself and is reminded of his mother when she had the very same emotional outbursts as he grew up. He finds that they do not bother him now as much as they once did.

"So, are you bonded or married now?" Nyota asks suddenly, a gleam in her eyes.

Spock is momentarily taken aback by the abruptness of her question. He had not thought to be interrogated so soon about that particular subject. Clearing his throat, he approaches the subject with as much caution and gentle hesitance as he approaches a mathematical equation.

"I have been bonded."

"So . . . you're not married?"

"In Human terms, no. A bonding usually occurs between male and female Vulcans at the age of seven. Obviously that wasn't possible for the two of us. The ceremony itself has only bonded us telepathically until the proper time."

"Mm, I see," Uhura says, and Spock senses that she wishes to say something more.

"Nyota, you know you can ask me anything you wish. No question is inappropriate for our situation."

Uhura seems to chew on her words a minute, and then she looks at me mischievously, a look I have not seen for some time. I raise an eyebrow at her sudden change in demeanour.

"Spock, what's she like?"

"What is she "like"?" he repeats, puzzled.

"Yeah, what is her personality like? What does she look like?"

Spock chooses his words honestly, but carefully. "She reminds of another young woman I know. One who is intelligent, confident, and unwavering. As for what she looks like, I will leave that up to your vivid imagination for now, as someday it would please me for you to meet her yourself."

"Meet her? Really?" Nyota says uncomfortably, "Are you sure that's a wise thing to do?"

"You were one of my very first Human friends and my confidante. Why should you not meet her? She will be honoured."

"Then I will be honoured to meet her," Uhura says, and gathers up her bags for departure. "Until then, will you do _me_ the honour of accompanying me home? I believe we have two years worth of news to discuss, don't we?"

"Yes," Spock says, picking up his suitcase and falling in step next to the young lieutenant, "You are quite right."


	31. An Almost Magnificent Seven

**Authoress' Note:** Man, this chapter was a TON of fun for some reason. I just love wrapping things up. I'm sure some of you are confused though. You probably thought I was really going to wrap this story up good and tight. No way. I gotta leave some stuff to your imaginations, right? This isn't the last chapter, but that doesn't necessarily mean that the next chapter is going to be an epilogue. You'll just have to wait and see.

**An Almost Magnificent Seven**

James T. Kirk lowers himself into the captain's chair, leans back, and closes his eyes. There is nothing in the world quite like being alone on the bridge of a starship. There is a silence that is impregnable to the chaos going on only a few decks below. It washes over Kirk as he languishes in the full intensity of the space around him. He can feel the ship thrumming and pulsing beneath his fingertips, and he marvels at the power of her ability to over ride even his commands. He shivers involuntarily at the thought and smiles to himself. He is home.

Dr. McCoy breaks him from his reverie as he exits the turbolift cursing the personnel he has been assigned, as usual. He stations himself right next to Kirk's chair, and the Captain is forced to pay attention.

"Really, Jim, after all I've done for you and this ship," he begins, and then pauses, shaking his head, "but mostly for you, you'd think Starfleet would be kind enough to send me some _experienced_ people. But nooo . . . thank God for Nurse Chapel is all I have to say. She does a fine job of keeping me semi-sane."

"That is no small feat, Doctor."

Both Kirk and Bones turn abruptly toward the turbolift to see Spock standing before them, his hands clasped iconically behind his back, with one eyebrow arched precariously at the two of them. A broad grin spreads over the Captain's face, and it is obvious that he is trying very hard to hold in the urge to jump up and embrace his Vulcan friend. The good Doctor scowls.

"Impeccable timing as usual, Spock," he says sarcastically as the Vulcan takes his place on the other side of the Captain's chair.

"Why thank you, Doctor."

The Doctor's scowl deepens as he mutters something that sounds like "pointy-eared bastard". Kirk holds up his hands, looking at his two friends in turn.

"You two do realise that this is a five year deep space mission, don't you? That means you'll be in close contact with each other for some time. If you can't be nice to each other, then just don't say anything at all. Okay?"

"Did I say anything, Jim?" McCoy says, both eyebrows shooting upward. "Trust me, I know what I signed up for. If Spock's got a problem then that's news to me. By the way, you're due for a pre-flight physical later today. I've got enough to get done without wasting my time bickering with you two."

With that, the Doctor abruptly leaves the bridge. Kirk shrugs at Spock, who raises his eyebrow again.

"It's all a joke between you two anyway, isn't it?" he asks.

Spock gives him a quizzical look. "A joke, Captain?"

Kirk waves his hand and shakes his head, still smiling. "Never mind. Don't worry about it."

"I am a Vulcan, Jim. Worrying is illogical."

"Of course, how could I forget? Ya know, I'm surprised Bones didn't stick around to find out what you've been up to for the past couple of years. He seemed interested only a few days ago."

"I believe, Captain, you can read what I have been "up to" in the files concerning Admiral Pike's last mission. You may find them to be an interesting read despite the fact they contain no near death experiences that are so commonplace in your own logs."

Kirk puts a hand to his heart and makes a pained face. "Spock, you wound me. Are my experiences really any more abnormal than the next persons?"

"I don't think you have any idea, Captain."

Kirk's grin widens at this pronouncement, and then he takes on a reprimanding tone.

"I'll have you know Mr. Spock that Doctor McCoy and I had a very pleasant trip to see my mother which resulted in no broken bones, high speed chases, or bar fights. I am proud of myself in that respect."

"Yes, it is a comfort, Captain, to have you here in one piece. I admit, I was looking forward to playing a game of 3-D chess against you at the earliest possible convenience."

"3-D chess with me?" the Captain acts incredulous, but it is obvious to Spock that he is extremely proud of himself. "You're on. Meet me in my quarters at 1900."

"Montgomery Scott to bridge. Cap'n are ya there?"

Kirk punches the comm button on his chair hard. "Scotty!"

"Yes, Cap'n?"

"I didn't think you were arriving till tomorrow!" Kirk says, a look of unadulterated surprise on his face.

"And leave my crew in charge? You're barmy! Only over my dead body! Do ya know what would happen if I were to – Och, I cannae imagine!"

"Point made, Scotty," Kirk says apologetically, "I won't mention it again. But really, what are you doing here so early?"

"Just doin' some maintenance check ups is all. No harm in that, is there?"

"No, of course not, carry on."

Kirk swivels around in his chair to face Spock, who is bent over his station, already hard at work preparing for their departure. The Captain clears his throat, and the Vulcan looks up at him expectantly. Jim Kirk looks down at his booted feet, twiddling his thumbs, and quite unsure of how to broach the topic of Nyota Uhura.

"Mr. Spock, have you spoken at all with Lieutenant Uhura since you last saw her? She will be returning as communications officer, and I –"

"There is no need for any worry or anxiety on your part, Captain. I last spoke with the Lieutenant only a week ago while waiting for a flight from Starbase 6."

Kirk swallows hard and gestures noncommittally with one hand. "And?"

Spock fights the urge to shrug. "Any past conflict we might have had will not interfere with our duties aboard this ship. Though we have chosen to go our separate ways, she will remain one of my closest confidantes."

"A most reassuring sentiment, Spock."

Kirk jumps in his chair, startled, and whips around to face Uhura who has just exited the turbolift, her datapad already in her arms and a stylus tucked behind her ear.

"Shit! Why the hell does everyone feel the need to sneak up on me like that?"

Uhura glances down at the Captain with a stern gaze, and he looks up at her hopefully. She remains stone-like though her eyes soften a bit as she responds, "I see you haven't changed a bit, _Captain_."

"And _I _see you're not exclusive anymore, Lieutenant."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asks, settling herself down at her station and fiddling with a few of the knobs and buttons.

"It means I can get in your knickers without having to worry about Spock wringing my neck."

Uhura chuckles, her peal of laughter like the tinkling of bells echoes around the bridge. Kirk is very happy to have her aboard once again.

"Spock, please remind me to lock my door at night, would you?"

"Of course, Lieutenant," Spock says, nodding his head at Nyota, a slight smile curving the corners of his lips, "I would advise the Captain to keep his night time wanderings out of your general vicinity unless he wishes to suffer the consequences."

Kirk pretends to look crestfallen. "Damn you two."

---

The following day is one of the most exhilarating and stressful days of James T. Kirk's life. It is a marvel to him that they even make it into space at the appointed hour. Only minutes till leaving orbit, the bridge hums with life as everyone makes last minute changes from his or her assigned stations. Spock streams a non-stop update of ship-wide activity, while Scotty and McCoy takes turns harassing the Captain via the comm system. All that's missing are Chekov and Sulu, both key components of manoeuvering the ship.

"Any idea where they could be?" he asks for the fifth time to nobody in particular. There are five minutes to take off and still no sign of the navigator or helmsman. Kirk drums his fingers on the arm of his chair restlessly.

"Becoming agitated will not make them arrive any sooner, Captain," Spock cautions, but Kirk ignores him.

Suddenly, the turbolift opens and a harried looking Hikaru Sulu skids onto the bridge carrying a small suitcase by his side. He throws himself into his seat and pushes the case out of the way.

"Sorry Captain," he says, his breath coming out in a rush, "I was running late, and I didn't have time to stop by my quarters to deliver my personal items."

"Yes, I can see you're late, Mr. Sulu. We have the entire crew waiting on you and Mr. Chekov. Do you have any idea of where he could be?"

Sulu perks up. "Chekov, Sir? He's still in Russia, at the academy. I think he wanted to continue his studies a bit more. Lieutenant Ryans is supposed to fill his position, but I don't know where he is. Perhaps he didn't get the memo."

Kirk scoffs slightly and settles back into his chair. "Well, I certainly didn't get the memo. When can we expect to see our Russian friend again?"

Sulu shrugs, "Within the next year I'm sure. We'll have to take some shore leave on Earth at some point."

Kirk nods, and again the turbolift doors open and a tall, blonde lieutenant walks briskly inside, a paper in his hand as he surveys the scene.

"Apologies, Captain. I only just got the memo."

Kirk makes a grab for the paper as Lieutenant Ryans walks by to take his seat next to Sulu.

"There really is a memo," the Captain says, scanning the first few lines, "And I thought you guys were just making this shit up," he tosses the paper aside, laughing to himself, and leans forward in his chair, "So ladies and gents, I think it's time to get this show on the road."

A chorus of "Aye, Captain" meets his ears, and he can't help smiling to himself gleefully at the sound.

"All right, Mr. Sulu. Warp six, and punch it."


	32. The Final Frontier

"_Space . . . the Final Frontier. These are the voyages of the starship _Enterprise. _Its five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds; to seek out new life and new civilizations; to boldly go where no man has gone before."_

So this is it. We all know what happens when our magnificent seven go on their voyage to explore the final frontier. There is no need for me to repeat what has already been done before. Therefore, I leave you with these iconic and comforting words, so that in your own imaginations you may create the ending you wish for such iconic and beloved characters. Their adventures will be somewhat different for us all now, especially if they follow the timeline of this story. Perhaps there will be no "This Side of Paradise", and even so, perhaps there will not be a need for "Amok Time". In my imagination and only in this timeline, Spock eventually settles down to life with T'Loriah, as much as any space-faring Vulcan can settle down. You, however, may wish to take Spock's story in another direction. That is the power of fan fiction. All the power is left up to you as both the reader and the writer.

I hope you have enjoyed the snippets of a story I have created here. I never intended this story to get as big as it did. I certainly hope I have not disappointed anyone with the way I have ended this. I had initially wanted to write an epilogue, but somehow I didn't think I could. It felt like too much of an ending, and Star Trek has definitely not ended for me yet. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! Until we meet again, live long and prosper!


End file.
